A Rose Watered with Vinegar
by J. Godfrey Vulture
Summary: He watched her flee Crait, running from him yet again. But this time, he wasn't going after her. This time, he was going to change things first. Then she would see his vision, understand what he saw when he looked into the Force. The great Balance that binds them all. And then, she would let old things die.
1. Chapter 1

**A Rose Watered with Vinegar**

 _Chapter 1_

o0o0o0o

Kylo Ren watched as the distant blip that was the Millennium Falcon disappeared from view beyond the cloudy overhang of the atmosphere of Crait. The remnants of the Resistance – his mother, that traitorous scumbag Stormtrooper, Rey – _his_ Rey – all gone yet again. And it was his fault. He had to admit the trick from the old fool had been good; Skywalker had fully sold him on his timely appearance. He had figured it was only a matter of time before his uncle showed up, anyway. The bastard had a knack for trying to ruin his life, his efforts. And that hero complex wasn't going to stay hidden away forever.

 _See you 'round kid._

He felt the anger as the words smacked back into his mind, felt it like a hundred worms writhing in his chest. But it didn't matter. The old man was dead. The ensuing wail in the Force had been enough to confirm Skywalker's departure from the galaxy. The old man had killed himself in the effort to show up as a ghost. A phantom. A nothing. A pitiful irony. He briefly wondered what his mother had felt – if it had been worse, like it had been like when he'd killed – He quickly tamped it down. There wasn't any time for that.

There was work to be done.

He would find Rey again. He had no doubt about that. Their connection, their bond – it was never going to die. He'd resigned himself to that fact. Happily so, even. He relished that Snoke never created it. And in some ways, Kylo always knew that. His master was many things, but he could not replicate the things he had started to feel. That _they_ had started to feel. Snoke was too dark to create them. They were light and air; they were the softest things he had ever known. And they would have their day in court, he thought. Just not yet.

The salt-air of the planet stung his nostrils slightly even through the breathing apparatus of his mask, as he awaited the command shuttle to arrive to take him back to the _Finalizer_. He kicked over a patch of the fine sodium crystals that covered the surface of the ground to reveal the redness of the rhodochrosite beneath. It was pure crimson; redder almost than any variant of the color he had ever seen. Redder than his lightsaber. Redder than blood. He swallowed.

When he boarded the shuttle he could feel the crawling fear of the Stormtroopers within. Afraid of their lord's post-battle disposition. That was good. It made him feel better, feel powerful again, masking the dull throb that thrummed betrayal behind his ribs. Kylo knew fear as a weapon, understood it intimately. It was a compelling motivator, but not the strongest. Few in the elite of his ranks comprehended this.

Along for the ride too was a Praetorian guard, his fittings red like the stuff beneath the salt. For a moment, it was odd, and Kylo was confused. And then he remembered. They recruited quickly, he surmised grimly.

Finally aboard the _Finalizer,_ he stood on the bridge and peered out the viewport at the vast ether that swallowed them all. He focused on a nearing star and stared at it until his eyes burned, until there was a prick of wet along along the seams. And then he heard the clack of footsteps approaching and turned to find a small aide who squeaked that everything was ready. He nodded and followed in her wake to the command room.

* * *

Inside were six imposing figures, dressed in black from head to toe and adorned with fearsome masks that were each different from another. They looked like wraiths from hell. Like giant malformed crows waiting for an opportunity. At his appearance, they all simultaneously dropped to a knee, heads bowed, each holding out a hand with the palm upward in a display of deference. He bid them to rise.

Kylo stepped forward and assumed his position at the head of the table, electing to stand.

"You may remove your masks."

The room filled with the sound of rapidly releasing gas as they did as he commanded. As they placed their helmets upon the table, Kylo looked upon each one.

There was Hyperion to his right, his second in command, a behemoth of a man, his aged salt and pepper hair tied up into a curt bun at the back of his head. Then Rhea, the beautiful Twi'ilek, with her lovely orange skin and the green dappling along her lekku, followed by the thin form of Cronus, his spectacles reflecting the overhead lights and obscuring his shrewd grey eyes. Then there were the twins, Theia and Atlas, two sides of the same coin, fire and water. Lastly, there was the youngest, Ophion, his face already twisted in a slight grin, the shock of his blonde hair falling into his face.

He felt a quick swell of pride looking over them. They were his creations. They were extensions of his power, of himself even, honed and made strong in the Force by their master. They were the Knights of Ren, and they were about to become so much more.

"Be seated," Kylo said, and the Knights complied. Kylo took off his own mask, the sudden brightness nearly causing him to squint.

Ophion spoke first.

"To what do we owe the incredibly dubious pleasure, master?" His smirk deepened, eyes narrowed slightly. He looked like a great coyote, only four times as wily.

Theia shot him a glare, while the edges of Cronus' mouth tugged upward almost imperceptibly.

"That," drawled Kylo. "Is a question with a very complex answer."

Ophion rolled his eyes but no further insolence ensued.

Kylo went on. "The war isn't over. It may seem like it is, but no matter how beat down the enemy looks, it doesn't end. You know as well as I do that there will always be opposition to progress. Especially you, Ophion, given your latest scores."

Ophion's jaw tensed at the dig. Kylo believed in the dual importance of both battle and mental skills, and in the pursuit of the latter, mandated his Knights read and learn about the Force and various histories. The literature was often dense, a compilation of works by both Sith and Jedi Grandmasters, but they contained the essence of the secrets of the Force. On this, he evaluated them every two weeks, and Ophion had a penchant for failing to study the material. And no matter the punishment, he never seemed to pick up on the habit, much to Kylo's chagrin.

Kylo sighed. "The Resistance has escaped, though they are all but wiped out."

Hyperion interjected. "Escaped? What do you mean, master?"

Kylo grit his teeth. "Yes," he bit out. "In the frenzy after I confronted my bastard uncle, they managed to pull together a getaway."

Hyperion looked about to speak again but Kylo waved his hand.

"It doesn't matter. They're 20-odd in number and in shambles."

It was Rhea who broke in this time, her dulcet voice sharp as a sickle. "But won't they regather? Pick up new recruits? In time, they will be a force again, my lord."

"In time, we will mete out what's coming to them. They will be destroyed. Once and for all." Kylo paused, looking them over. "But not right now. We have bigger bantha to fry."

Cronus stuck his hand out and waved it in a questioning circle. "And those would be...? Forgive us, my lord, but we aren't let in much on all your extracurricular undertakings."

Kylo pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm aware, Cronus. And you'll be pleased to know that's changing. Effective immediately."

At his perplexed look, he went on. "I don't trust the military elite to rule the galaxy the right way. They know nothing but an iron fist. And we saw how well that worked out for the old Empire."

Several nods. Cronus templed his long fingers.

"That isn't the way to change the galaxy. Only lunatics think holding a blaster to someone's head forever is a good strategy. Fear doesn't motivate change; it quells it. It is inherently regressive."

"That means it goes backwards," said Ophion in a sing-song voice, crossing his eyes. Rhea stifled a laugh, and Hyperion failed in his attempt.

"Ophion..." warned Theia with a growl.

"Focus!" barked Kylo. They snapped to attention. "We have created momentum in the galaxy, and we need to put it to use. That's why I'm doing away with the military autocracy. They aren't ruling anything." He halted for effect. "We are."

All eyebrows in the room shot at that.

"We, master?" said Atlas almost breathlessly, his unending serenity seemingly broken.

Kylo smirked. "Yes, Atlas, we. The Knights of Ren deserve input in the galaxy they've worked tirelessly to change. So, consider this a promotion. No longer are you simply the Knights of Ren, but the Council of Ren. My Council. You will be the flag-bearers of change. We will decide the course of history." He smirked. "That is, if you can handle it."

Theia leapt from her seat, her tiny shoulders bristling. "Master, don't doubt us!"

Kylo chuckled, a rarity, and motioned for her to sit back down. "Relax, Theia. I have no qualms about your abilities. I have no better in the entire galaxy with which to make it anew."

They all looked to him now, faraway fires burning in their eyes.

"We have a lot of work to do. But first, we need to take care of some things."

* * *

The air seemed to chill as the Knights filled the room. When they assembled like this, drawn in on their power, the darkness pulsating around them, everything cooled, as if their presence drained the heat from the ambient air.

The six of them formed an arrow around a large table, at which a large man with long brown hair was scrutinizing documents with the help of an wispy aide, who pointed down to them every so often. At their arrival he looked up and quickly masked his sudden shock, pulling a dour face. With a wave of his large hand the aide bowed and quickly disappeared. He cleared his throat.

"Ah, the Supreme Leader's fancy toys. What can I do for you lot?" he said with a sneer.

Theia jerked, but Cronus laid a hand on her shoulder. He stepped forward, placing his hands behind his back.

"Captain Zion," he said tightly. "Do you value your job?"

The man's mouth fell ajar.

* * *

"Are you ready for this, my lord?"

He felt the hand on his shoulder and turned. It was Rhea, emerald eyes peering up at him. They were clouded with concern, and he nearly coughed as he felt the weight of her sincerity in the Force. He didn't find the words, so he simply nodded, and the fingers tightened reassuringly into his skin for a moment before they were gone. He looked away. He would allow his compassion. He shouldn't. But he always did.

With a wave of his hand, Kylo and the Knights poured through the door.

The Knights formed an unbroken line at the helm of the command room, masks affixed, Kylo in front of them. Seated about the table were the military elites of the First Order: Armitage Hux, several admirals, generals in charge of various departments, including technology, espionage, tactical engagement, and others. Some looked a little shaken, some confused. Hux cleaned his nails, apparently bored.

"What's this about, Supreme Leader?" said Hux leisurely, not looking up from his nails. His insubordination was insufferable. But thankfully, Kylo thought, he didn't have to deal with it much longer.

" _Emperor_ , Hux," corrected Kylo, his modulator humming with authority. Hux looked up at this. Kylo smirked. "Supreme Leader was a title belonging to Snoke. I will respect his legacy. The title died with him. I am the Emperor, now. And this is no longer the First Order."

Every head snapped to him. That got their attention. When appealing to the military zealots, it was always a good attention-getter to start with his former master. Many believed Snoke was murdered by the Praetorian guard, but only the Knights knew the truth. Kylo could not face the backlash without the First Order effectively dismantling. He suspected Hux had his doubts, but the man had thus far kept a lid on any suspicions.

"Pardon me, Sup—Emperor Ren?" nervously said Admiral Eglus, Commander of the Navy.

"I'm not sure what wasn't crystal clear about that, Admiral. The war is finished. The supremacy of the military is no longer needed. The galaxy requires a government, not a junta."

Several sets of eyes narrowed at the implication.

Kylo went on. "Starting today, we are simply the New Order. And those in charge will not be yourselves. Things are going to be done differently. I am master and commander now. And my Council will see things through."

"Council?!" sputtered Hux. His face was slightly red now, and Kylo could see the first bits of uncertainty plain on his features. "What Council?!"

As one, the Knights of Ren moved forward, swallowing Kylo into the line at the middle. Hyperion turned his head slightly and nodded to his master, the great spire shooting from the top of his helmet dipping as he did so.

Several generals jumped from their seats. Instantly, Hyperion and Rhea lifted their arms, and they were forced back into their chairs with an audible whoosh.

"This is madness! Intimidation!" cried General Beehart, Head of Internal Security, as he struggled against the invisible bonds that held him in place.

"No, General," came the reedy voice of Cronus. "This is implementation."

Theia cackled beside him, and Beehart looked positively terrified. Hux simply stared at Kylo with a hatred in his eyes that would have wilted an entire forest.

"You wretched—,"

Kylo silenced him with a wave of his hand. "You never did quite get it, Hux. Always thought you would call the shots. So arrogant. So naive." Hux shook in his seat.

He turned to the whole group. "You have 24 hours to decide where you stand. I have the backing of the Stormtroopers. Friends of the New Order and the Council will retain their positions. Enemies," he looked down again at Hux. "Will be fired in escape pods into the nearest sun."

The color drained collectively from the military ensemble.

He turned and the Knights did with him. As they left the room, he said again over shoulder.

"24 hours."


	2. Chapter 2

**A Rose Watered with Vinegar**

 _Chapter 2_

o0o0o0o

The galaxy was like a great pond to him. The surface tense and unbroken, the undercurrent of dark pulling the clear surface of the light taut against itself. He could see almost a line at the barrier where the two met. A fuzzy and vibrating ray of white, the point where all things exist without want or discord. He longed to touch it, to submerse himself there. Let it ease the violence in his bones. But he couldn't. It evaded his every attempt.

He tried now, though he knew it was useless. There was only one way he could get there. He could feel its ebb as his mind drew closer to it, inching its way toward the peace. It was so close; the tension in his body released a bit, and the dark was slowly dissipating—

And then there was a flash of light, somewhere on the horizon of the Force. It pierced his mind, and he smelled briefly the soft aroma of a desert rain and dandelions. _Her_. He pulled back from his trance, breathing hard, and cursed. He shouldn't have been taken so aback. He should have grabbed on, taken the opportunity to drop into her presence. Fucking hells.

Deciding to try again, he resumed a meditative posture, putting the arms of his mind out into the deep, searching—

A sudden Signature behind him. It was earthy and solid, like a grounding rod. Hyperion. He could feel the man standing behind him respectfully, forsaking the interruption of Kylo's meditation.

 _You need to work on your stealthiness_ , he said into his second's mind.

Hyperion chuckled. "I've never been one for the sneaky side of things."

Kylo rose to his feet, his knees producing a couple little pops like hot rocks thrown into ice water. He walked to the corner of the training room and poured himself a glass of water from a crystal tureen that sat upon a small ornate table. He sipped it lightly and turned to the big man.

"Where are the others?"

"Coming." Hyperion laughed lightly again. "I believe Theia and Ophion got into a bit of a disagreement over breakfast."

"That's going to carry over well in here," said Kylo with a smirk. He finished the water and replaced the glass upon the table, looking back to find Hyperion looking at him curiously.

Kylo grimaced. "I suppose I'm going to get some mysterious adage or a pointed question, so which is it?"

Hyperion didn't mince words. "I could feel the depth of your concentration when I came in. You were looking for the girl, weren't you?"

Kylo held his black eyes for a moment before turning around and focusing on a dent in the wall. They were going to know eventually. Most of them understood her importance, her skill with the Force. They knew she had bested him, once. Perhaps they thought he wanted to kill her. He felt disgusted at that, to his own surprise, before dismissing it. He was the Emperor, now. If she was an obstacle, then she'd be treated as such.

He let out a pursed breath. "Yes."

"And what if you find her? Will you sway her? What if she doesn't see our purpose, Master? What if she tries to rebuild and thwart us?"

Kylo took an edge to voice. "Then I will destroy her."

Hyperion simply stared for a moment, before bowing his head lightly. "You know I trust you, Kylo." Hyperion and Rhea were the only ones who dared to privately use his given name. "The vision we share is going to shape the galaxy. I have faith they will come around to it."

"More faith than I."

Kylo ran a hand through his long hair, turning back as he felt the rest of the Knights fill the room. They were missing their usual robes, instead clad in combat gear. He ran his eyes over Rhea momentarily, drinking of her figure, the leather that clung like a second layer of skin to every curve, before quickly glancing away. Shame ran through him like a waterlogged arrow.

If she noticed, she didn't show. He grabbed his mask swiftly from the floor and affixed it to his face. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hyperion do the same.

"Theia, Ophion, and Atlas," he announced, cutting right to the chase. "Time to reckon with your master." He smirked. "Attack me at your leisure. Live sabers."

The three glanced at each other, and then Theia roared, the three Knights igniting their weapons at once. Atlas with his saberstaff, Theia her dual short sabers, Ophion his cutlass. She took the first opportunity, launching herself at him in the Force, twin sabers held blade down toward the ground, assassin-style. She flew like a bird of prey through the air, her form small and lithe.

Always the reckless one, he thought.

He juked her at the last second as her blades came down. They pierced the floor, holding her fast, and he delivered a quick kick to her side. She was sent tumbling across the room with a yelp, swords still stuck in the floor.

"Your thoughtlessness will get you killed. Next." His voice was bored, even.

Atlas came at the command, charging, his red saberstaff held in a neutral position across his body. He swung low with the bottom of the staff, and Kylo leapt, chopping down. Their weapons met in a loud, sparking clash, and Kylo pushed him back. They exchanged blows, the top of Atlas' staff coming close to nicking off the top of one of Kylo's ears, before the latter managed to dislodge Atlas' nearly immovable stance with a sweep and send him toppling to the ground, saber at his neck.

He barely had time to react as Ophion's sword came singing past his head and cleaving into the far wall. He turned back to the incoming sight of the youngest Knight's fist barreling into his face, sending him stumbling back. Kriff. The little pest might have broken his nose.

Ophion swung again, his other fist connecting with Kylo's side. His master growled at the pain, grabbing Ophion's hand as it pulled back and bending back the wrist. The young Knight barked, and his hand shot out to grab Kylo's neck, but the move was dodged, and Kylo pulled his momentum back to swing Ophion over his back and to the ground. He dropped a knee into the chest of the squirming knight, who tapped the ground after a few seconds.

He released him and stood, chest heaving. Ophion rolled away, and Kylo removed his mask. He poked at the numb mass in the middle of his face. Broken. He pushed it back into place with a grunt and set it with the Force.

"Oh, did I ruin that pretty face, Master?" crowed Ophion, his hands up innocently.

Kylo would have burned with anger, but the release of combat energy felt good, and he smirked. "Even with a broken nose, you'd still look like a Rancor compared to me."

Ophion guffawed, and the others joined him.

Kylo grinned.

"Now for the fun part: let's work on stance."

The laughs turned to groans.

* * *

They had changed rooms now, the bright metal of the command center glinting imperiously as Kylo entered. After he had dismissed them from training, he had gone to meet the military elite. Unsurprisingly, they had all agreed to his demands; apparently, being in the New Order was preferential to a new home on a sun. Hux hadn't even spoken, refusing to acknowledge Kylo the entire meeting. Eglus and the others had been overly grateful, almost sycophantic, and Kylo wondered how long that act would last. Hux he would have to deal with sooner or later, but his current acquiescence would suffice.

The Knights were already seated around the table. Cronus cleared his throat as Kylo sat at the head.

"Any news, my lord?"

"I consider it bad news, Cronus," said Kylo easily. "Sadly, we aren't going to get to play pirates with escape pod cannons any time soon."

"I was really looking forward to that," came the theatrically sad voice of Theia, her auburn hair hanging as she hung her head, and Kylo chuckled. In their presence, he could almost relax, be the organic leader he wanted to be. That image would be difficult to cultivate. It probably couldn't be done. He was evil to the rest of the galaxy. And maybe that was for the best.

"We'll have to keep an eye on them," delivered Atlas, the ocean of his Signature washing over the room as he spoke. When he projected, it was like a swollen blanket laid upon their minds, dispersing panicked thoughts. A strange power but very useful in frenzied situations. It had saved them from their own destruction on quite a few occasions.

"Agreed," chimed Ophion. "I have a feeling like the tiny wheels are already moving in Hux's ginger head."

"The others are barely capable of firing their own blasters," posited Rhea in accord. "The start of any drama is bound to start with him."

"They'll be monitored," assured Kylo. "Especially our good friend Armitage."

Theia grinned wickedly.

Kylo clapped his hands together. "Talking too much about Hux leaves a sour taste in my mouth. I want to tell you about our first move."

Cronus leaned forward. "I smell a radical institutional change."

"Good nose, Cronus." Kylo smirked. He wasted no time. "The first act of the Council will be to abolish the practice of slavery."

They all glanced at him in shock, except for Hyperion, who simply cracked a small smile.

Kylo elaborated. "It is a deplorable institution, and furthermore, I despise it. The Outer Rim is plagued with it, and it is hindering any sort of possible economic development there. The Old Empire sanctioned it, but we are not them. If we want the change the minds of those against us, we have to upend those policies. And, do not forget, the Force recognizes the dignity all sentient beings."

They did not have to know the real reason for his hatred of slavery. The fact that some bug with a developed brain thought he could own Rey, thought he could keep her forced in his employ was enough to distend the darkness in his breast. He made a promise to kill that bug - Plutt - the disgusting creature he had seen in her mind on the Finalizer so long ago.

A moment, and then Cronus' voice. "My lord, this will not sit well with the crime syndicates. The Hutts especially will take offense."

Kylo's fury flared. "I will kill every Hutt worm that goes against me!"

"Did you not want to end all wars, Master?" interjected Rhea scornfully. "You said yourself that after we did away with the Resistance, there'd be no more bloodshed."

"I will seek the most peaceful options!" Kylo grit his teeth. "But advancement waits for no man, and I won't let the kriffing crime lords think they can prevent progress. If they refuse to break the chains, I will burn the bastions of their corruption to the ground. Starting with Nar Shaddaa."

"Perhaps, Master, we can offer them recompense," offered Hyperion. "They will no doubt suffer heavy losses from the release of such labor."

"To offer them recompense would be to legitimize them. I will not have the Hutts be recognized under my rule in any way, shape, or form. They comply, or they are ruined."

The Knights looked at each other, eventually all nodding.

It was Rhea who finally spoke.

"If this is your will, Master, we shall enforce it."

* * *

He was in the 'fresher, now. The hot water ran over his flesh, coaxing the muscles of his neck and shoulders to relax. He ran a finger over the angry seam that snaked down his face. Her work. A token of her memory. He felt the dark rumble of possession in his belly.

He finished washing and dressed in his sleeping clothes. He laid down and closed his eyes, willing his mind to shut off. But something was suddenly amiss.

He opened his eyes and shot up in the bed.

She was standing there. In his rooms. Looking petrified.

He hated how hoarse his voice sounded.

"Rey?"


	3. Chapter 3

**A Rose Watered with Vinegar**

 _Chapter 3_

oOoOoOo

 **A/N** : Updated as of 10/25 for minor grammatical errors. My pea brain and I suck shit at proofreading. :/

As always, leave a comment if you feel like it.

oOoOoOo

"Rey?"

He blinked, hard.

His lungs constricted. He couldn't believe it. She was finally here.

Admittedly, he had started to doubt the bond. He feared it would leave them connected as mere sentiments in the Force, that it would never bring them together again, like two ships that meet on radar but never pass. Those fears died then and there. It had brought her back to him.

Pleasure torched his veins as he saw her cheeks color lightly with the realization that she had come to him in such a private environment. She averted her gaze, suddenly interested in the massive wardrobe across the room.

She was a banquet for his eyes, beautiful in a beige training tunic and form-fitting pants, and he figured it must be daytime wherever she was. He liked her dressed like that. So unassuming. Taking whomever doubted her by appearance by utter surprise when she demonstrated her power. He imagined her for a moment in the regal attire befitting an Empress, black and crimson, a tiara of—

"How did this happen?!" she blurted out, and he came jerking back to the present.

He disliked the irritation in her tone but willed himself to patience. "I'm just as unsure as you, Rey. The Force works in mysterious ways."

She sighed. "The Force works in the worst ways."

"Don't insult the Force," he warned tersely.

"Well, it keeps dragging me back to a monster!" she cried. "I was doing so well keeping you out..."

The barb found its mark. "After all this time, you still think I'm a monster?"

"Uh, yeah, that's usually what someone is when they kill their own father and try to kill their mother."

"I didn't take the shot."

Her eyes snapped to his, widening. He elaborated, the hurt of her assessment blossoming like nettles under the words. "That was my wingman. I never took the shot. I—I couldn't."

She looked away again. He was afraid she wouldn't believe him. That she'd hate him even more. But when her eyes returned they were full of doubt, and he knew she believed him. The relief was visceral.

"That doesn't change anything, Kylo," she said bitterly, and he found he missed when she called him by his given name.

"I'm not Ben anymore?" She had the decency to look somewhat contrite, but her answer didn't match the sentiment.

"Not when you're the leader of the First Order."

" _New_ Order," he corrected. At her obvious confusion, he went on. "When I told you to let the First Order die, I didn't lie. I'm not doing things the old way. I'm starting over; the galaxy needs real change. And I'm going to bring it."

She rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. "As if I believe that's a good thing for a second."

"Well, if you tune in to the Holonet tomorrow, you'll find out all about it. Starting with the fact I've abolished slavery in the galaxy."

Her pretty cerulean eyes grew again, and he nearly chuckled. "You—you're what?" she sputtered, her breath quick.

"You heard me correctly. There's no room for it in the world we need. In the world I want to create. Not on Coruscant, not on Jakku, not anywhere."

She looked speechless, so he didn't stop.

"If you ever took the time to stop avoiding our connection and listen to me, you might find out that I'm not evil. The Resistance simply wears the old Republic's blinders; anything that does not fit their narrow scope of the galaxy is the Dark Side and must be eradicated. Funny, they would rather be martyrs for an idea that doesn't even represent reality."

She still said nothing, but he could see the etchings of speculation across her face. He decided to push his luck. "I could still teach you, you know," he added softly.

He overplayed his hand. Rage flashed in her eyes. "You think ending slavery is just going to change everything?!" she cried. "That it's just going to erase everything you've done? All the people you've killed?!"

"Some of the deaths are regrettable, but they were necessary to move the galaxy forward," he said through his teeth. "If you would just listen—"

"No, Kylo!"

He knew any further conversation was futile. Her blood was up, and she was taking out her old anger on him. At least it was finding an outlet. He wondered if she'd ever let it go. It was so twisted into her mind, ugly and bloodsucking, coming to roost whenever he began to make headway. Dismantling it would not be easy. But he'd be damned in he let it go without a struggle.

He sighed. "Rey—"

She cut him off. "I have to go."

"Rey!" his voice was pleading now, like in the throne room of the _Supremacy_. He hated it, hated the idea of begging, but for some reason she always trumped it. "Don't—"

"Goodbye, Kylo."

He watched as she disappeared through the wall, and his anger exploded. He was a tempest, shooting lightning at everything he laid his eyes on. It ravaged the walls, the furniture, his bed bursting into flames. He cursed her, cursed everything. Why did it have to be so _hard_?

When he felt the dark finally begin to subside, he sunk to his knees in the destruction and smoke.

* * *

It had been three days since Rey's sudden arrival in his rooms. He'd taken out his vexation on the Knights, pushing them harder in training than he ever had before. If they noticed, they knew better than to mention it. He'd run them through simulation after simulation, even increasing their exercise regimen twofold. It was wearing on them, and he knew it wasn't fair to run them like this out of his own anger. But she'd pushed him too far to care.

He was alone now in the training room, crushing droid after droid. The catharsis of violence eased his furious hurt, but he couldn't shake the words from his mind.

— _kill their own father_ —

He cut another droid down and shut off his sword. Chest heaving, he walked across the room to retrieve the water jug. He stopped in his tracks when Hyperion materialized suddenly at the door, his face the gravest Kylo had ever seen it.

"My lord", said the Knight, clearly unable to wait. "You need to come with me. Now."

Kylo ignored the blatant disregard for procedure and sprang forward, joining his Knight as they began to hurriedly make their way toward the command center.

"What is so urgent, Hyperion?" he asked, aggravation beginning to seep through.

"It's him, my lord."

Kylo nearly froze when the implication of the Knight's words blindsided him.

Him.

Pallas.

When they finally reached the command center, he found the rest of the Knights already gathered, each looking as somber as Hyperion had when he'd shown up at the door of the training room. Rhea's long, slender fingers tapped away at the table, while Cronus paced at the far end of the room, hands behind his back. Theia bounced erratically in her chair. Even Atlas, the rock, looked somewhat unsettled, eyes narrowed in thought as he looked down at the table.

Those seated rose to acknowledge their lord, but Kylo dismissed the formalities with a wave.

"Cronus," commanded Kylo. "Tell me everything we know."

Cronus nodded. "Yes, Master. I was monitoring our correspondences when I received an encrypted holo message from an undisclosed location. It is best you see it yourself."

He turned and went to the console, fingers working at the keys. Pressing a final button, he stepped aside, and a hooded blue figure appeared in the center of the room.

It was indeed him. Pallas, the lost Knight of Ren.

"Hello, Kylo," he said immediately, and though it was prerecorded, he got the feeling that he was aware they were listening at that very moment. "Are you happy to see me again? I hope so. I'm very excited to reveal myself to you. You probably thought I was dead." The broad-shouldered figure chuckled. He removed his hood, revealing the Dathomirian array of small horns jutting from his skull. "As you can see, I'm very much alive. And I've grown even stronger."

Kylo slit his eyes. The kriffing bastard dares—

"I knew you would always turn away from the true path. I knew it from the moment I looked at you. You can't handle power. You can't handle the real strength of the Dark Side. That's why you have to be stopped. You're nothing but a child—a pest."

Kylo tightened his fists.

"Even as you listen, my army is growing. The Sith will not be silenced. And soon enough, we will be powerful enough to crush your little charade."

Pallas paused, a grin twisting across his face.

"You thought killing Snoke would be the end of your troubles. But it's only served to galvanize us. I'm coming to you, Kylo."

Kylo reeled. How in all the hells could he possibly know about Snoke? There was no way. No one but the Knights knew.

The figure leaned forward.

"And after I end you, I will end the girl, too."

Kylo didn't think. His body simply reacted, and he pulled his sword from his belt. He ignited it and flew through the air in a blur at the figure, slashing it across the neck, taking the head off the traitorous filth, the parasite, the—

Pallas' voice directly in his ear broke his mindless outburst.

"Start counting, Kylo. Your days are numbered."

He turned to the figure, but it was gone. The message had ended. He realized then he was still standing there in the middle of the room, shoulders rolling, his sword lit. Collecting himself, he straightened and shut off the saber, returning it to his belt.

When he turned to the Knights, he found them watching him with a mixture of confusion, fear, and curiosity. He scowled. As always, he thought, the infinite enigma that was their petulant, raging master.

Ophion released a breath. "Well," he began with mirth. At Kylo's look, his mouth snapped shut. Kylo stalked back to the front of the room, his wrath animating the air. It seemed to bend and shudder around him. The lights grew dimmer as he passed, and the Knights instinctively bowed their heads.

He finally spoke.

"If what Pallas said is true, then another war is unavoidable. We have to mobilize. Quickly. Cronus!"

"Yes, my lord?" his faithful intelligencer answered. They all still had their heads slightly bent in deference, eyes averted, and Cronus' long nose cast an odd shadow upon the surface of the table.

"Find out whatever you can about the message's origin. We need to find him and strike first. At this point, exhaust every resource." He wrinkled his nose. "Even the cartels."

Cronus merely nodded.

"I should never have given him mercy." Kylo's rich voice shook. "I should have cut him down the moment he questioned us."

Pallas had been so promising. Kylo remembered the day he recruited him. He'd beamed like experiencing something sweet for the first time. Young, ambitious. When Kylo had challenged him to their first fight, he had uprooted a small tree with the Force and swung it at him. Every time Kylo had put him down that day, he'd risen.

He'd known about Pallas' affinity for the dark from the get-go, but he thought he could rein it in. While Kylo could resist the worst of Snoke's mental assaults, Pallas succumbed to them like a fly to honey. Perhaps Snoke thought Pallas strong enough to strike him down. He'd have been easier to control. But there was no way to know now.

Rhea shot up from her seat. "It isn't your fault, my lord." She looked so distressed at his anger, and he couldn't help but feel guilty. She had such a well of compassion for his anguish, unfaltering even in the worst throes of his passion. He had once begun to destroy TIEs by hand in a hangar when he'd learned of a Resistance victory but couldn't even get to two before she put herself in his way. She was a balm, and his suffering had scattered. He didn't deserve it.

"It is, Rhea!" He slammed his fist into the table. "He's back, and that blame belongs to me. But I will not let him threaten us or our vision. Believe me."

"We will die before we let that happen," snarled Theia.

"We're with you to the end, my lord," confirmed Hyperion.

Looking at them now, he knew what he had to do.

He had to find a way to talk to her again.

He left without another word.

* * *

Settling onto the floor of the training room, he crossed his legs and assumed the meditative posture. He closed his eyes, feeling the Force accumulating around him. He eased himself into it, letting it wash over him, feeling the inherent disassociation of delving into the living energy that gave them all life. It was phantasmagoric, the deep emptiness of the galaxy before him imbued with a million colors.

He blocked the irrelevant forces working on his mind, concentrating on her Signature. Energies ebbed and flowed around him, but her light was evading him. Come on, Rey, he thought. Show yourself to me.

There. The spike of her Signature like a solar flare into the firmament. He focused his entire will on it, reaching out and wrapping himself around it. It resisted him— _she_ resisted him—but he did not let go. He dug in and concentrated, pushing with everything. He gave a giant thrust—

All of a sudden he was there. His hold wasn't incredibly strong, but he could at least see her and a little bit of her surroundings. Everything else was a fuzzy vibrating grey. It was unnerving. She was walking on metal—a hallway, probably—wearing a robe this time. Maybe she had been meditating, too.

When she noticed him, she jumped and reached for her chest.

"Ben," she breathed, and he heard another voice, a questioning mumble.

"Um, nothing," she said, tearing her gaze from his and turning to whomever she was with. A thought seared in Kylo's mind: that she was with the traitor, spending time _alone_ with him. It was enough to flex his fingers as the urge to pull his blade flared, but he held himself fast.

"I, uh, I have to go. I'm sorry," she finished lamely. She hurried in the opposite direction in which she had been walking, and Kylo followed. Eventually, she came to stop in what looked to be a personal room, judging by the patterned carpet around her feet and what looked to be a bed next to her. She closed the door.

She crossed her arms and glared at him. Guess she remembered who he really was.

"How did you get here?" she probed with irritation. He was sorely tempted to counter her, deliver her the bite she was asking for, but this was too important. His approach had to be right.

"It doesn't matter, Rey. I needed to get to you, and I did."

She narrowed her eyes. "If this is about teaching me, again, you can—"

"It's not," he said, cutting her off. "Rey, this is important. I need you to listen to me. Please."

She must have noticed the genuine plea in his eyes, because she didn't go on.

He took a deep breath and released. "Rey, I know we are at war. And I'm sure your side isn't keen on ending anything anytime soon. But there's a greater threat to us both. One you have not yet seen. A demon from my past."

She was inquisitive now, albeit at arms-length. "What are you talking about, Kylo?"

"A long time ago, when the Knights of Ren was in its infancy, I recruited Force-sensitive individuals throughout the galaxy. I saw and culled many, but those in the Knights today are the strongest of them all. However, there was one, once, that was second only to me. And it was close." He hated to admit it, but it was true. Pallas was a master in the Force, and a decorated warrior to boot.

Kylo continued. "His name is Pallas. He was a Dathomirian from Ossus in the Outer Rim, the son of merchants that knew nothing of the Force. I immediately recognized his strength, and he impressed us all with his abilities. Soon, he was climbing through our ranks, and I saw the infinite possibilities achievable with someone like that amongst us. But it was all for nothing."

"What happened?" asked Rey. She looked a bit enraptured with the story, and he hoped it would be enough for what he needed.

"Snoke happened. He lived in all of our heads. Myself and the other Knights managed to keep him from completely poisoning our minds, but Pallas' pull to the dark was too potent. I should have seen the signs. In time, he was reduced to madness, in a sense. Snoke's marionette. I think Snoke turned him into that because was wary of my independence. But that's beside the point. One day, Pallas came to training with his sword already ignited. He challenged me then, claiming I was far too susceptible to the light, and that I would bring them all down. Like every senseless zealot, he thought through nothing. He wasn't strong enough at the time. I beat him easily, and then I made one of the worst mistakes of my life. I let him go."

"Let him go?" she repeated. She was sitting now, elbows on her knees and face in her hands. She was so precious like that, absorbing it all so intently. He shook his head once. Focus.

"Yes," he confirmed. "I gave him the option of mercy. He took it and ran. He was the reason I instituted the death mandate for all who challenge and lose to the Master of the Knights. There can be no insurrection when running a perfect machine. I thought he might have simply lived out the rest of his days somewhere far away, consumed by his madness. But he didn't. He's back. And he's revived the Sith Order."

She inhaled sharply. She looked nervous, unsettled. "How do you know all this?"

"We received a comm from him earlier today. A holo message. There was no doubt after I saw it. It's him. And he says he has any army." His voice turned low, a soft rumble. "He knows about you, Rey."

She drew back as if struck. "What?! How's that possible?"

He shook his head. "I don't know. But he aims to come for you after he kills me."

She looked so afraid in that moment, and he went before her and knelt. He held his breath and reached out to place a hand on her knee. Her gaze snapped to his, but she didn't go to remove it.

"I don't plan on going anywhere soon. And I would never let him hurt you." He made his voice soothing, clement. She relaxed a bit but still looked anxious.

"What are you going to do?" she whispered.

He gave her knee a squeeze and stood. "I'm going to kick his ass."

She smiled, and joy coursed through him. He didn't let it show, though, maintaining his seriousness.

"But we need to work together, Rey."

A look of trepidation. "We? As in you and I?"

"No," answered Kylo. "The New Order and the Resistance."

She leapt from the bed. "Kylo—"

He raised a hand. "It is the only way, Rey. We cannot be divided against each other and fight a common enemy at the same time. A war is best fought on one front, you know this."

"They aren't going to go for this, Kylo." She chewed her lip.

"We have to try, Rey. I'll send you the holo message. You can see for yourself, show them if you have to. It's going to be an uphill battle, but if we don't try, then we'd be spitting on all the sacrifices we've made for the galaxy." He steeled himself. "Will you try?"

She turned away, and he assumed the worst. But when she faced him again, there was that flinty determination behind her eyes he'd seen so many times before.

She nodded.


	4. Chapter 4

**A Rose Watered with Vinegar**

 _Chapter 4_

oOoOoOo

 **A/N:** Just wanted to drop in and say I will most likely start updating once or twice a week, maybe more if readership demands it. Thanks!

oOoOoOo

 _All around him was an expanse of vermillion nothing. A cruel wind stung his cheeks and whipped his robes about like errant tent flaps. The arid thrall carried sand on the its currents, razor-like and blinding, and he squinted, trying to make sense of anything in that dusty gloom. Shadows fell all around him like grotesque animations of the incarnate darkness, but their sources couldn't be found. Raising an arm to block the particulates from his eyes, he did the only thing he thought he could._

 _He started walking._

 _There was a murky light from above, a dull orange that didn't quite pierce the fierce dust cloud enveloping him. His foot struck something, and he glanced down to find it was a long, chalky bone, as big as a tree branch. It looked to belong to the leg of something, but he couldn't be sure. He knelt and ran a finger over the alabaster length of it, a jab of darkness shooting through him as he did. This was a bad place. He could taste the infinite death of it._

 _He trudged on. The sand drifted around his feet, splashing in little walls against his ankles like waves. He thought in the distance he could see the outline of a great triangular object, and he figured it to be a mountain. Shelter. He made his way towards it._

 _As the mountain loomed closer into view, a small dark thing appeared in his path. It was about the size of a waste can and spherical. He nearly lurched back when he came to it. It was a BB-series astromech unit, exactly like the droid that accompanied Rey and held the map to Skywalker. He brushed the sand from its head, and he was shocked to find its optical lens was still glowing faintly. It was operational. He gave a rap of his knuckles on the dome, and it slowly turned the lens to him. It gave a fragmented chirp and whirr._

" _Droid_ _, can you read me?" he asked, and the machine beeped in groggy affirmation._

" _Where are we? What system—,"_

 _The BB unit shuddered. Suddenly, it began to project a holo message. A figure appeared, but it was too staticky and malformed to be recognizable. The figure looked to be waving its arms frantically, before something wrapped its arms around it._

 _He choked. "BB, who is that? Who are you trying to show me? Is it her? Is that—Is that Rey?" His voice was tight._

 _And just as soon as the projection came, it was gone. The BB's light had gone out. He cursed, grabbing a fistful of the sand and launching it into the air. A hand went to his hair in frustration. He stood a long time like that, trying to make sense of it all, before shaking his head and going on._

 _After what felt like an eternity, he reached what was indeed a large mountain, as red as skinless muscle. There was an opening on at the base, a cave, and he instinctively stumbled toward it._

 _When he reached the entrance, he tried to peer inside. Pitch blackness. He couldn't see a thing. He looked back over his shoulder. The sandstorm was thickening. He had no choice, there was nowhere else to go. He had to get out of it. He closed his eyes and drew the Force to him, and when he reopened them, the Force drew outlined before him only enough of what he needed to see._

 _He made his way down a winding path, bumping his shins and feet painfully on occasion against stalagmites that stubbornly appeared in the middle of the path. Though he could see the faint outlines of his surroundings, he kept his hands forward like a blind man, using them every so often to touch the walls and ensure he was still in a tunnel. After some time, the walls abruptly fell away._

 _He was in a large cavern. His Force-sight filled with bright red light, and he let go of it so he could see. He flinched at what he saw. Crystals in bunches growing everywhere, maddeningly crimson. He felt a strong Force presence emanating from them, and he walked over to the nearest bunch for closer inspection._

 _He was about to touch one when the unmistakable sound of a lightsaber igniting echoed in the cavern. He spun in bewilderment._

 _It was Pallas._

" _Hello, Kylo," the Dathomirian drawled. The tesserae of his cracked skin, corrupted by prolonged exposure to the Dark Side, seemed to draw the light from the crystals menacingly. He looked like a rotting corpse, his orange eyes like portals into the underworld._

 _Kylo felt for his sword but came up with nothing. It wasn't there._

" _I never thought you would come here. I didn't think you'd have the stomach for it."_

" _And where is here exactly, Pallas?" countered Kylo, trying his best to keep his voice from slightly shaking._

 _Pallas cocked his head. "Now, what would be the fun in that? If I told you, there'd be no chase, no excitement. And I think that'd be a letdown for both of us."_

 _Kylo was getting angry now, his fear taking the backseat. "Enough with the fucking games, Pallas! You think you're some sort of Snoke, don't you? Your mind tricks leave a lot to be desired. You're nothing compared to him."_

 _Pallas chuckled. "You think you're going to rile me up that easily? You child. You have no edge here."_

" _You think that's the case? Why don't you test that theory." He assumed a fighting stance._

 _Pallas guffawed at that, his rasp of a laugh like trapped air releasing._

" _No, Kylo. I don't think so. Girl!" He looked over his shoulder. "To me!"_

 _Kylo barely contained a gasp as Rey stumbled forth, her wrists bound with metal restraints. When she saw him, her eyes enlarged, becoming beseeching._

" _Ben!" she cried. "Ben, please! Help me!"_

 _Kylo instantly sprinted forward, running to her, willing Pallas' saber—_

 _And then he couldn't move. He was frozen in place, and he could feel the Force stasis like a steel coat around his body. He tried to break it, summoning his power, but nothing happened. He had never felt so weak. What was going on?_

 _Pallas grabbed her by the neck and forced her to her knees. She began to sob, her body convulsing._

 _Pallas grinned wickedly. "She's so petite, Kylo. So pretty. I can see why you're so infatuated with her."_

 _Kylo seethed. He would not let this creature win. He would not dominate his mind, manipulate him. "You think I care what you do with her?" he barked. "You're a fool, Pallas. She's nothing but a scavenger. She means nothing to me."_

 _She looked up at him, tears pouring down her face, the ragged hurt in her eyes enough to crush his soul._

 _Pallas shrugged. "Well, if that's the case—"_

 _He raised the curved saber over his head, bringing it down like a guillotine._

" _NO!" screamed Kylo._

 _And then blinding light._

* * *

He burst into consciousness, dragging the air into his lungs with great gulps like a fish attempting its own resuscitation. He tried to move his extremities, but a great invisible pressure upon his chest pinned him in place. Light slowly made its way to his eyes, and he became aware of the icy wetness—sweat. He was absolutely drenched. Slowly, like a million needles raining down, the feeling returned to his limbs, and he pushed himself up.

His mind was numb. Looking to the clock, he found it was an hour before his usual rise. With a grunt, he shook his head, hard, willing his senses back into place. He shrugged off the sodden blankets and stood, wobbling a bit.

He padded to the wash room. With shaky fingers, he turned the 'fresher on ice cold. He stepped in, relishing the shock the water delivered to his system. Beginning to feel normal, he rested his head on the wall.

Of the million questions swirling around his brain, one stood out like a lone tree in a field: how did Pallas access his mind? That had been no ordinary dream. It had been so real, more visceral than any memory he had. How did he plant it there? He had never seen Pallas in his mind before. Kylo had a nagging feeling that the explanation lay with Snoke. Good thing that was a viable source.

Dressing himself, he thought about Rey, and the shame instantly leapt onto his back. The things he had said in that moment, Pallas goading him, those awful things—

He cursed. No, Kylo, he thought. You can't let her disrupt anything. It isn't your problem what happens to her. You don't need to concern yourself. Focus on the plan. Focus—

He clamped his eyes shut. He couldn't believe how empty those words were. They were lies, and he hated that he knew it.

Mask in place, he exited his rooms and made his way to the comms center. His head was in the clouds, and he failed to acknowledge anyone he passed.

Until he almost ran over Hux.

"Ah," said the General as they stood before one another, lip curling. "Emperor Ren, how nice to see you."

Kylo was not in the mood for this. "Hux."

The General took a simpering tone. "We've all heard about your political exploits. Freeing the slaves—how very generous of you." Kylo did not like the gleam in his eye. "I'm sure that will be a popular decision with all. And oh so easy to implement."

"Yes, Hux, your political advice is so treasured. That's why I chose you to lead things."

The General narrowed his eyes. "It is best how you see fit, Emperor."

Kylo nearly rolled his eyes. "Glad to hear it, General."

"One can only hope the new allotment for political gains won't leave room for any dissidence to grow," said the other man innocently.

It was so early into it, but Kylo had already had enough. His hand shot to Hux's neck, long fingers wrapping themselves like great serpents around the pale flesh. He slammed the general back into the wall, leaning his weight into him. Kylo got close to the man's ear.

"The world is like a sea, Hux," he said, in a voice like the low swinging of a scythe. "And change is like the tides. The tides come regardless of any man, and these ones are high. So very high. We will all find ourselves awash in them. At that point, Hux, you have two options."

He couldn't see the man's face, but Kylo could feel his ragged and weakening pulse. Much longer, and the General would drop to the ground asleep.

"You can sink, or you can swim. I wonder which one you'll pick, Hux."

He released the redheaded General, and the man instantly dropped to his knees, coughing and wheezing. Kylo kicked him in the side, hard. Just for good measure. The other man flopped over instantly with a groan, rolling onto his back. Kylo continued on, leaving the sullied General there facedown in the hallway, clutching his stomach.

* * *

He summoned the Knights to him in the Force. He sat alone at his spot at the long command table, dented still from his assault after Pallas' message, staring at a screen that displayed the known regions of Wild Space. Absently, he drifted over the planets. Teth. Thune. Pion. Agaris. Obus VI. Zakuul. And so many beyond.

Pallas had to be out there. Or, at least, that must be where he started. It had to be, as Kylo was sure he would have intercepted a signal, a trace, _something_ of the Lost Knight. He knew now that he must be on the move, perhaps in a warship stolen from some faraway place. Army or not, the dark terror Pallas would inflict upon the Galaxy alone was enough to warrant his immediate and undivided attention. For, at least, the moment.

He felt the presence of the Knights before they filled the room and bowed to their Master. Kylo waved his hand, and they removed their helmets. They sat, and Kylo went to stand.

He put his hands behind his back. "Cronus, any report?"

Cronus shook his head staidly.

"No, my lord. Unfortunately, the cartels and syndicates are reluctant to share information as you've emancipated their slaves. Despite obvious lack of implementation of the decree, they're already being rather—intolerable."

Kylo cursed. "The Hutts will get theirs. Have you found out anything about potential movement? Large ships in areas near the Unknowns? Populations thinning?"

"The scouts have returned nothing yet, my lord," he said apologetically. "However Pallas is moving, he is doing so with care."

"What do you know of desert planets in Wild Space?"

Cronus looked briefly confused, but he obliged. "Well, there are Smarteel and Kamar, which are inhabited. I believe previous ventures by ourselves and the Old Empire discovered several more, though they were merely brief interactions to collect samples and had no purpose beyond that. The name of two escape me, but I remember one is called Tantarus."

"Find out the names of the others and send reconnaissance vessels to each," Kylo ordered. "I want every inch of them scanned for any signs of life."

"Suddenly dying for a sandy vacation, my lord?" quipped Ophion.

Kylo sighed. He turned away, looking back to the map. "I saw him last night. In a dream. He was on a desert world, and there was a sandstorm so strong I could barely see. It had mountains, too. It was so vivid. I think he may have been projecting into my mind."

Leaving out the part about Rey was definitely for the best.

"How can that be, Master?" queried Rhea. "Snoke was the only one strong enough to get into our heads, as he so adored to make clear."

"Snoke may have taught it to him. I don't know. Either way, it deepens our problem. If he can project himself into my mind when I'm awake..." he trailed off.

"There must be a way you can block him, my lord," supplied Atlas. "Even without the Force, the power of psychological will is not one so easily bested."

They all nodded in concurrence.

"I will resist him the best I can," assured Kylo. "But we can't let this be a distraction to us. It's time to act."

He swallowed. It was time to fill them in.

He steeled his tone. "Just before this meeting, I sent a formal request to the Resistance via the Holonet."

Ophion winced, but no one spoke.

"I've asked them for their cooperation in finding and destroying Pallas, and I included his message with it. If we want any hope in ridding the Galaxy of that menace, we cannot fight a two-headed beast. I've offered them terms for a ceasefire, effective upon the Council's signature and a representative's from the leadership of the Resistance. If we want their support, we're going to have to convince them. And that means a meeting. A big meeting."

Several things happened at once. There was a loud bang as Theia ejected forth from her chair, sending it to the ground. She was almost screeching in her anger as she began to tirade—the Resistance; lost your mind; inconceivable—but it was hard to truly pick what she was saying as Rhea took up arms against her, yelling with equal fervor, a slender orange finger pointed at the other woman's chest. Cronus was magnanimously attempting to calm both women and failing spectacularly, his nimble hands making pleading motions. Ophion howled with laughter like a hyena and egged them on, while Atlas simply put his head into his hand.

Kylo opened his mouth to shout for order, but he didn't get the words out as Hyperion bellowed beside him.

"ENOUGH!" Everything seemed to quiver momentarily at the ferocity of his words, and the entire room came to a skittering pause. They all looked to him. "The Master was clearly unfinished! If the lot of us can't hold a civil meeting to save our lives, how could we run a convenience shop, no less the entire galaxy?"

Theia looked away in embarrassment at the reproach, while Rhea harrumphed and crossed her arms. They all slowly returned to their seats, Ophion with a giant grin on his face still. Kylo nodded to the big man in thanks.

"Now that our heads are firmly reattached," said Kylo with a tinge of borrowed reprimand. "I'd like to explain further. I will stress here and now that this is _not_ a truce." He jabbed a finger into the table for emphasis. "This is not a partnership, and I will not legitimize them in any way. Officially, they will remain a terrorist organization. I know the old saying." He looked at Ophion, who was about to interrupt. "So save it. This isn't a negotiation. They aren't receiving anything. We're simply going to a fight a common enemy. Who knows? Maybe at the end of it all they'll put down their insane fantasy and join us willingly."

"Kriffing likely," muttered Theia.

He looked pointedly at her. "I'm not saying we all have to link arms and be best friends. No one wants to be friends with zealots, lunatics, and vagrants. But we'll have to make do with them for now."

"What are the terms, my lord?" inquired Cronus diligently.

"I've only outlined the bare essentials to them," said Kylo. "We will have to hammer out the details if they agree to meet. I have ideas, but I don't know what they'll demand."

"They're going to want to operate freely, I can imagine," contributed Ophion with a sneer.

"As if," huffed Theia. "We're gonna need to put a clamp on them. Find a way to dismantle them from the inside out. We can use the ceasefire as a subversive launching point."

"A stray dog will only take so much poking before it bites," warned Hyperion. "We can certainly demand they halt recruitment activities, but I don't think they're going to go for absolute containment."

"At that point it becomes a negotiation, which I thought we were trying to avoid," added Rhea sharply.

"We're playing on a tricky balance beam, it seems," said Atlas thoughtfully, stroking the black stubble along his strong jaw.

"I believe I may have our solution."

Everyone looked to Cronus, who templed his fingers and flashed a rare smile.


	5. Chapter 5

**A Rose Watered with Vinegar**

 _Chapter 5_

oOoOoOo

The Resistance response came a laggard four days after his initial message, as Kylo had expected. He was certain Rey had a hell of a time attempting to convince the most bloodthirsty of the zealots to sit down with their ultimate boogeyman. All the sectarian infighting would be the doom of the Resistance. From previously gleaned intel, he knew they barely even held together a united front. None of them had any real idea of what they were fighting for. The most consolidating thing they had was a shared hatred of the old First Order, held together by the shoddiest shoestring reasoning. It was pure reactionism, frenzied lunacy whipped up by the old leftover generation that comprised most of the upper echelons of their ranks. They would never understand what he was working for, why the Republic had to fall. The bloated plutocracy. The suffering of the masses. And perhaps the most loathsome, the apathy and ineptitude of the Jedi.

His heart soared when Rey had appeared in holo form but reversed into plummet at the grave and tired look on her face. Had she failed? Could she not convince them? He swore that if the jabbering psychopaths had ruined this, had pushed her further from him, he would redouble his efforts and crush them before he even looked to Pallas.

Relief descended on him like rainwater when she revealed their acquiescence. He winced as she added ' _after extensive consideration_ ' with more than a touch of acrimony, and he knew she'd had to surmount considerable and what sounded to be very unfriendly pushback on the idea. He was proud, though, as he realized that she'd succeeded against the odds. She was so brave, so resilient. He felt like he'd played a role in nurturing that in her, despite his rather unconventional methodology. To put it lightly. Nonetheless, the thought was sweet on his tongue.

She went on to reveal that they had a condition, and Kylo shrugged at that. Whatever. A condition was preferable to an outright refusal. He didn't bat an eye when she explained that they wished to pick the place of the meeting. Until she said where exactly that was.

Chandrila.

Instantly, he was seething. This demand reeked of his mother, had her fingerprints all over it. She just couldn't help but take every opportunity to jab him. He was revulsed. To make the homeworld of Ben Solo the place of their peace-making. What did she think this would gain? That he'd have a reawakening, return to the naive child of the past? He laughed aloud.

Ben Solo was dead.

The damned little voice struck up at the back of his head, but he willed it to a quick death. He'd turned his attention back to Rey, who was saying that they would arrive on Chandrila in a week's time, and then gave him the coordinates of a covert assembly room in a small western city. She bit her lip after that, looking unsure of herself. After a beat, she said, "Well, goodbye, Kylo," and was gone.

He dismissed the Knights immediately afterward, wanting to be by himself. He had just made it to the room's small beverage cart and was reaching for a bottle of brandy when he noticed Theia had not left, standing uncertainly by the door. He pulled the bottle out with a sigh, pouring two glasses of the richly amber liquid. He summoned her over with a quick sweep of the head.

He handed her the second glass of brandy, at which her expressive periwinkle eyes widened. "Alcohol, my lord?"

He smirked at her hesitation. As part of their continuous training, he disallowed the Knights bodily toxins of any sort, including caf and alcohol. He was sure they didn't entirely adhere to this rule privately, but he appreciated that she appeared so scandalized at the idea.

A small hand twisted some of her long red locks, and he watched the fingers as they worked. "Yes, Theia, _alcohol_. Everyone deserves to kick back every so often. And I think you've earned it. All of you." He took a large gulp of the drink, and she followed suit. He nearly burst out laughing at the disgust that twisted her elegant features. "I take it you like it?"

She grimaced. "It burns like speeder fuel and tastes even worse."

Chuckling lightly, he took another pull of the drink. "You won't notice after a couple more sips."

"If you say so, my lord," she ribbed, before going silent and looking away. He cocked his head.

"Is something the matter, Theia?"

She looked back up at him, suddenly shy. "Yes _—_ well, no, Master. I _—_ I just wanted to apologize. For my display the other day. My emotions got the better of me. It won't happen again, my lord."

He put a hand on her small shoulder; it covered it entirely, his fingers nearly eclipsing her shoulderblade. "Theia, don't deny your emotions. Your passion is perhaps amongst your greatest assets. I've seen it fuel you, propel you when you've most needed it. But your implication isn't wrong. The Dark Side can be your strongest ally, but you have to control it when it matters most. Or it may act for you, and you'll find yourself having done something unthinkable."

Theia bristled, and he pulled his hand back. "Since you're so good at controlling yourself all the time?"

He grit his teeth. "Careful, Theia."

"It's not as easy as you always say, my lord," she said with dejection. "It just comes so hot, and I can't even think."

"Don't you think I don't know that?" he said tersely. "You've seen me fall over the precipice more times than I care to count." The vexation left his voice. "But I _—_ I've made ground. The key is in finding the balance, and you need something...concrete to stabilize you."

She looked at him curiously. "And you have that, my lord?"

Rey seared into his mind, but he shook his head. "No, but I think I know where I might find it."

It wasn't entirely a lie. He knew it was her; it had always been her. He just didn't have her yet.

She didn't look placated but thankfully didn't push the subject. "How can I find it?" she asked instead.

"It's different for everyone," he provided cryptically. "But you can begin by looking inside yourself. Meditate. Find the hole in the wall and figure out what caused it. That's the first step toward any form of improvement, really. Believe me." He waggled an eyebrow. "I'm pretty good at introspection."

"The chronic loner," she said breezily. He grinned as she giggled, the alcohol easing the usual restrictions between them. His ears began to feel warm. Yep, he thought, definitely the alcohol.

He finished his drink and set the glass back on the cart as she did the same. She gave him a ample smile that creased the corners of her eyes, her tiny yet regal nose lifting slightly. Oh, yes. She was feeling it.

"Get some rest, Theia," he said, turning to collect his helmet and gloves. "We have a big week ahead of us."

She started as if to say something but paused. She shook her head lightly before taking a step toward the door.

"Thank you, my lord," she said, "For this."

Not knowing what to say, he nodded curtly, and she was gone.

* * *

He felt a strange unease as his shuttle landed on Chandrila in the hangar outside their meeting spot. Leaving the pilot to tend the ship, he led the Knights into the building, commanding caution to them in the Force. Holding their hands close to their belts, they found the designated place.

Empty. The Resistance was late.

After what felt like hours, he sensed them arrive in the Force. His lip curled as the chosen entourage of the Resistance began to fill the room. The wretched thief and scoundrel, Poe Dameron, led them, followed by the traitor, the malignant abscess that was FN-2187. He would have spat had it been under different circumstances. Next were a smattering of faceless individuals whom he assumed to be among the leaders of the Resistance. Gormless tools. He was relieved his mother was not amongst them.

And then her. Rey. He felt his a chunk of anger bleed away instantly as his eyes leisurely walked her face, the smattering of freckles, the perfect cheekbones. When he met her eyes, the cerulean orbs returned his gaze firmly.

He stood behind a long table in a line with the Knights in full regalia, masks affixed. He was tallest of them all, looming like a tower, a factor that aided their imposing presence. They were like a wall of darkness, each sheathed firmly in the blackness of the Force, projecting their will onto every inch of the room, intimidating, pushing. But to their credit, the Resistance showed no fear as they formed a line of their own on the opposite side of the table, scowling, chins high. The utter display of churlish defiance was enough to make his skin crawl. Theia was probably quaking with rage already, he pictured happily.

He nodded to the Knights, who removed their masks in tandem, setting them on the table before them with the fearsome faces deliberately facing the Resistance. Kylo took off his own mask and gestured to the chairs on the other side.

"Please, have a seat."

They did so warily.

The traitor made a big show of taking his last, and Kylo couldn't help himself.

"It's been awhile, FN-2187," he said snidely. "How's that back doing?"

Anger flashed in his eyes. "Better than your face."

Kylo put a finger to his scar and glanced at Rey. "I don't know, FN. I think it lends to my image. You, on the other hand, just look like a botched embroidery project."

"Nice masks," jumped in Poe derisively, eyeing the long, fanged visage of Cronus' helmet across from him. Kylo loved his the most, though he had a deep appreciation for the tusks adorning Atlas's. "What, did you decide to branch out and become a circus troupe alongside a murder factory?"

"Ah, I see we have someone obviously very knowledgeable in Force battle masks amongst us," said Ophion from down the table with scorn. "Tell me, is it a requirement to be a uncouth idiot to join the Resistance or is that just a bonus to you guys?"

Though irritated himself with the wannabe smuggler's comment, Kylo knew he had to nip the aggression in the bud before the whole thing went south.

"I appreciate the interest in our masks, Dameron," said Kylo tightly. "We've chosen to remove them to remind you all that we're human, too. Humans who want to work together, to put aside our differences momentarily for the good of the galaxy."

"The 'good of galaxy'?" scoffed Finn. "Yeah, your idea of that isn't sketchy at all, Ren." So much for the appeasement.

Kylo worked his jaw. Theia's voice carried sharply from his left, low and growling.

"You will address the Master with respect, traitor, if you have any concept of it."

Finn was about to retort, but Rey raised a hand.

"Enough!" she said with impressive authority. "We're never going to get anything done if we're at each other's throats the whole time. This is a serious situation. You all saw the message. You saw that man. Even the New Order thinks he's a monster. He has to be stopped, or we'll never have a shot at rebuilding anything."

He ignored the blatantly seditious comment. "She's right. Pallas will not stop until either everyone is dead or a slave to his idea of the Sith Order. I know how he works, what makes him tick. He's unstable, and he will destroy the whole galaxy if he gets the chance."

A crusty Sullustan general to Rey's left piped up. "Who is this character? Why is he so dangerous as to be focused on now?"

It was Atlas who responded. "If the fact he wishes to renew the Sith Order is not enough to convince you, he was once one of us. Pallas' power was second only to the Master's. Power like that draws people to it like a magnet. They become malleable, brainwashed. If he is not dealt with now, he will have an army neither of us will be able to stop sooner than we could ever imagine."

Poe's eyes were slits. "I've never heard of this 'Pallas' guy. How do we know this isn't some classic First Order ruse? That you aren't using this to get our guard down?"

Kylo gestured to Rey. "Your Jedi believes me." He hated calling her that. "But if that doesn't suffice, the _New_ Order is willing to demilitarize the planet on which you have your base. Though we are not the bloodthirsty elite of the First Order, we still have a presence now on virtually every sliver of the galaxy; it's only a matter of time until you're compromised by the New Order forces patrolling your world. Additionally, should you wish to operate elsewhere, you have our utmost guarantee you will not be interfered with."

Poe sat back in his chair, seemingly in thought. Finn shook his head.

"Pretty words, Ren," he said disparagingly. Tolerating the open insolence from the traitor was making his blood boil, but he didn't show a sign of it. "But it all could be lies."

Rhea spoke up to his immediate left. "We haven't killed you yet." Finn's eyes went wide. "We've led you to a secluded meeting and haven't cut you down like animals. Isn't that a decent starting point for reassurance?"

"I hate to admit it," said Rey. Kylo found himself staring at her full and pouty lips as they moved. They were so pretty, so _striking_. He wondered for a brief moment if they were as soft as they looked. He banished the insanity from his mind as she went on. "But she's right. They went through all this and haven't tried to hurt us. It may not be the greatest guarantee, but it's something."

"She's a smart girl," drawled Cronus. "You all you try paying more attention to her and not your deep-seated paranoia."

Poe tensed visibly, but Kylo didn't leave him the chance. "We have but one term. You may run around the galaxy, engage in your little fantasy missions. You may do whatever it is you radicals do. You can even build nice big warships, I don't care." They all looked at him curiously. "But you may not actively financially campaign. No pursuing funds from donors. No trying to weasel your way into dark money. Nothing. You may recruit or operate or whatever, but only using finances internally generated."

They all looked to one another, and Rey bit her lip. Kylo was finding he liked that look.

"Additionally," he continued. "You will submit a report of your financial status to us at the end of every week. You will also be subject to thorough audit. Can't have you going back on your word. Do we have a deal?"

He looked to Rey pointedly.

"Um," she started lamely. He nearly smirked. Her statesmanship was a little rough around the edges. "I think we need to discuss it. Privately."

Kylo gestured to the door. "As you wish. Take all the time you require."

Hyperion turned to him as they exited.

"They're going to demand something, my lord, as I'm sure you've predicted," he said. "We have to be careful we don't give up any ground. The ceasefire is dangerous, but legitimizing them is worse."

"We should call the whole thing off and take their heads right now," said Theia with exasperation. "This whole political back and forth is enough to make me sick."

"As much as I agree with the removal of their heads, Theia," intoned Cronus. "We have to trust this, trust the Master. We shall be far better off using them as a buffer against Pallas. It will save us a lot of aggravation."

"Cronus is right," chimed Rhea. "We have to see this through. Though, I'm having a really hard time not sending my sword through that smarmy greaser one..."

Ophion nodded. "I don't know which is worse, the tough guy act or the shitty caricature of a smuggler he's dressed as."

Theia giggled, and Kylo found himself cracking a smile. "He looks like he sleeps under a bench on Nar Shaddaa," he added.

They all erupted into laughter as the door to the room slid open. They quieted as the Resistance retinue took their seats. Poe and Finn looked downright livid, while the other leaders seemed somewhat satisfied. Kylo looked to Rey expectantly, who fidgeted nervously.

"I take it you've come to a conclusion?" said Kylo.

"Yes," she answered. "We agreed to your condition. However, we have one of our own." She paused and looked at them all. "We want new equipment. Everything we have is pretty outdated, honestly. We want new gear, new weapons, new ships. Is that okay?"

Kylo nodded almost a little too quickly. Whatever it took to get this done, to bring her to his side. "Of course. We can make arrangements as soon as possible."

She beamed at him, and he felt a swell of pleasure. He returned it sheepishly, before realizing he probably looked like a simpering fool. "Let's get this signed, then," he said hastily, looking to Cronus, who placed the document on the table and slid it to him. He signed on behalf of the Council and pushed it to her. She looked at it, glanced up at him, then looked back down, scanning it several times. He was beginning to feel anxious when she finally reached for the pen and scribbled her name. He took the paper and felt a strange sensation in his chest at the tiny scrawl that read "Rey of Jakku, on behalf of the Resistance."

He stood, as did all the other occupants of the room. "I'm glad we could reach an agreement," he said, sticking out his hand. There was a flash of the sting of rejection from the first time he had offered her his hand, but it melted when she moved to take it.

And then the room exploded.

* * *

With a groan, Kylo woke, lying on his stomach. He blinked, his vision barely changing from the blurry soup it was currently. His ears rung, and he was acutely aware of a sharp pain in his right shoulder. Ignoring the shooting twinges, he pushed himself to his knees.

He cursed breathlessly at what he saw. The room was a smoking wreck, charred and ruined. The table had been blown in half, and the remains of the chairs and other furniture were scattered about like discarded refuse. The wall was completely blown apart, and he could see slivers of the sky outside through the smoke. Before him was the charred corpse of the alien general, his features nearly unrecognizable.

His heart nearly stopped when he saw her. Rey's little form lying motionless near the middle of the room. Forgetting everything else around him, he choked back the impulse to sob and rushed to her.

He turned her as gently as he could onto her back. Her light skin was covered in soot, but he didn't see any immediate bleeding. Shaking, he put two fingers to her neck. Gods, a pulse. She was alive. Quickly, he looked her over for once more for wounds and felt a wetness at the back of her skull. His hand dripped red as he pulled it back. A head wound. She needed attention, fast.

He could feel the weakness of her Signature as he put his arms around her and cradled her to his chest. He spun, Rey in his arms, immediately looking for the exit, and saw the Knights were coming to. He didn't bother to look for anyone else.

"Knights!" he thundered. "To me! Forget the rest! Let's get off this hellhole planet!"

They rushed out of the demolished room, hearing another explosion somewhere else in the building. He hugged Rey closer to him. When they made it out, Kylo nearly stopped in his tracks at the sight above them.

A huge warship, battle-scarred and imperious, hung in the sky. A Chandrilan battleship moved to engage it as it fired its cannons in their direction again, huge bolts of energy tearing into the building they'd just escaped from. They ran as rubble showered down, and Kylo hunched himself over Rey to protect her from the debris. They rushed to the hangar, finding the command shuttle mercifully still there. The pilot would be very well rewarded, he thought raggedly. The ramp lowered as they approached, and they scrambled aboard.

The shuttle tore out of the hangar as a cannon shot blew it into oblivion. Kylo gingerly laid Rey upon a bench and ran to the cockpit.

"Give me the wheel!" he commanded, and the terrified pilot jumped from the seat. He took the controls and immediately noticed a singular fighter hot on their tail. He saw the warship was now thankfully doing battle with the Chandrilan enemy and was no longer paying attention to them.

The fighter fired on them, and Kylo cursed the lack of weapons systems on the shuttle. He dodged the shots. He had to find a way to lose the fighter, or they'd be shot out of the sky. He noticed a mountainous area to the west and got an idea.

He picked the first mountain and headed straight for it. The fighter was mirroring his every move. At the last second, Kylo pulled the shuttle up, and the fighter crashed into the side of the mountain. He heard Ophion whoop, and he slumped a bit back in the chair.

Satisfied they were out of range of any more enemies, he set a course for the _Finalizer_ and let the pilot resume his duties. When he went back to the hold, he found the on-board medical droid working away at Rey, applying a huge bandage that wrapped around her head. Misery came boring down on him, and he prayed with everything to the Force that she would be okay.

She had to.

* * *

 **A/N:** Hello, readers! Wanted to say that if I include comments or responses to anyone, they'll be down here from now on. I find the practice of putting them directly at the top incredibly pedestrian, so look here first if you want to read them. Feel free to leave a note about what you liked/disliked, or what you'd like to see in the reviews.


	6. Chapter 6

**A Rose Watered with Vinegar**

 _Chapter 6_

oOoOoOo

When word came that she was awake, he didn't promptly go to her. Truthfully, Kylo was incredibly unsure of the whole situation. A part of him feared she'd be angry with him for bringing her to his flagship, his home, despite the fact that he had rescued her. Another part was anxious to get down to business, to figure out who had attacked them. Yet another wanted to simply sit and talk to her, ask her about everything, understand her more fully. All of it clashed inside him as he paced the hallway outside the medical bay doors.

With a shake of his head, he decided he couldn't waste any more time. Steeling himself, he walked into the bright lights and sterile aromas as the doors dutifully slid open.

The various doctors and nurses bowed to him as he past, but he paid them no attention. He followed the maze of hallways past the lobby area until he came to an abrupt halt before a door that read "Z-127" in large block letters. This one. He didn't need to ask anyone which room she was in. Her presence in the Force provided that information. It rolled off the room and coated him, so inherently Light and calming and airy.

He tentatively pressed the button on the wall, and the door gave way.

Rey was sitting upright in a long bed, staring blankly at a screen on the wall that was playing some segment of the New Order News Network, an animated Togruta clamoring behind a desk in a crisp black uniform. The screen was muted, but closed captions flitted across the bottom, revealing the topic of the spokesman's rant. The attack on the New Order and Resistance meeting.

He cleared his throat awkwardly, and she looked sharply to him. There was instant resentment on her pretty face.

He started to approach the bed but stopped about halfway to it. "How are you feeling?"

She sighed, and some of the anger left her eyes. "Better. I just can't wait to get this stupid bandage off," she said, gesturing to the wrap that covered most of her forehead and disappeared behind her ears. "It kriffing _itches_."

He chuckled lightly. "You should just be glad that's all it feels."

She bowed her head at that, the memory of the attack obviously coming back to her.

"Rey—"

She cut him off. "How long have you had this?" she asked, gesturing to the screen. "The network, I mean."

Irritation pricked the base of his neck at her evasion. "Awhile," he answered tightly. "It was Hux's idea, admittedly, and Snoke loved it. More fuel for his mental warfare train. It used to be simply ravings against everyone in the galaxy that even remotely disliked the First Order, but since I took the proverbial throne I've introduced some less...direct methods." He gestured to the phrenetic host on the screen. "But as you can see some things can't entirely be changed."

"I've never seen it before," she admitted. "The Resistance doesn't really let anyone access the Holonet. We're given datapads, but they're heavily modified."

His lip curled. "Of course those cretins don't. I forgot anything outside their bubble is evil and wrong."

She shot him a disapproving look. "You talk like you know anything about us. It's for our safety."

"Awfully convenient safety aligns perfectly with their desire for censorship."

She raised her arms in exasperation but winced at the effort. He instinctively moved to help her but caught himself.

"There you go again!" she cried. "You act like you know everything!"

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "It's not my fault they've brainwashed all of you!"

She huffed. "Great way to plead your case, Kylo."

He swallowed his irritation. This wasn't going as he planned. He needed to take control. "Look, Rey, I don't want to argue. We need to talk. There are problems bigger than the trivial ones we create for each other in play right now."

She looked away and sighed. "I know." He was considering how to begin when she spoke again.

"What happened?" Her voice was incredibly small.

"I only know what happened in the moment," he said with disappointment. "I remember everything simply going dark. I have no idea how long I was out. Could have been a minute, or ten. When I woke, I could barely focus. Until I saw you." He heard her take a quick breath.

"You were just lying there in the middle of the room. Everything else disappeared from view. I—" His voice grew quiet. The strained desperation in his voice sounded almost alien to his own ears. "I thought you were dead."

Her eyes abruptly went wide. "What about the rest?! Finn and Poe?"

He fought the urge to roll his eyes. Only she would ask about her friends first over what happened to her.

"They're alive," he informed her tersely. He'd sent word to the Resistance that he had rescued Rey as a gesture of good will and notified them she would stay aboard his ship until she recovered, which of course was received with warm and delightful threats of violent retaliation. Most of which from Dameron and the traitor. The idiots. "But the Sullustan is dead. I saw his body when I first woke."

"General Tulub..." she said, her face becoming downcast. "He was a good man. I didn't know him well but L—your mother always spoke highly of him."

Kylo flinched at the mention of his mother. Rey's eyes took on a strange glaze. "She misses you, you know," she stated softly.

Oh no, he thought. They were not going to have that conversation.

"I don't want to talk about my mother," he ground out. "We have to talk about what happened. You never let me finish the story."

She stayed silent so he went on. "When I saw you just lying there I didn't think. Nothing else mattered. I just went to you. The thought of losing you—" he trailed off, suddenly becoming embarrassed of his candor.

"You don't care about what happens to me, Kylo. You've made that abundantly clear." He hated the tinge of pain in her voice.

"Then why didn't I leave you?" he asked. She glanced away. "Why didn't I kill you in Snoke's throne room? Why did I let you leave Crait? You know I care. The things I felt, thought we shared..."

"I felt them too, Ben," she whispered. His stomach somersaulted at the sound of his name. "I—I don't know what it was, but I've never felt anything like it. It was good. And...I wanted more of it."

"Then why must you always hide from me?"

Anger shot jaggedly in her voice. "Because, Ben! We're on opposite sides of a war. I'm not going to just dump the Resistance! You should know this by now."

Ah, his recurring stumbling block. She was refusing to let it die. She was impeding his vision, didn't care to understand what he wanted for the galaxy. But he wasn't going to give up. He had to show her.

He forced himself to remain calm. "We're getting sidetracked. Now, when I found you, I took you and fled the building. And that's when I saw it."

"Saw what?" she asked.

"A giant warship." He shut his eyes, picturing it in his head. "It was in tatters, but somehow still spaceworthy. A long time ago there was a Dark Lord of the Sith, Nihilus, who used a similar craft. It was all but destroyed in the Mandalorian Wars, but he made it operational. He essentially kept his ship afloat with the Force. If Pallas was behind this, then he might be using the same trick. And that would mean he's become more powerful than I guessed."

"But we don't know if it was him?"

He shook his head. "No, at least not for sure." He looked at her pointedly. "I was taking this on good faith, but I have to ask. Did the Resistance have anything to do with this?"

"No!" she yelped instantly. "At least, not that I'm aware of. There was a lot of opposition to the idea of the ceasefire, but...I don't think anyone would do anything like this. I don't even know where they would find a ship like that."

"Could be mercenaries." His tone was skeptical. "Some zealot could have learned the location of our meeting and hired them."

"No—no they wouldn't," she said, but didn't sound like she entirely believed it. "We don't have that kind of money."

"Could have been an indebted service."

She shook her head with resolution. "No, Ben. I won't rule anything out, but we need to look first to Pallas. And, how are you certain this wasn't some power play by the old First Order elites?"

"I've considered it," he said. "But in the end, Hux is too vain for such an attack. If he wanted me to die, he'd want it to be very public. Probably at his hand. A shadowy warship trying to blow up a tiny secret meeting doesn't quite fit that narrative. Besides, there'd be too many questions."

"If you say so," she said with a shrug.

"Look, Rey," he said. "I know as little as you right now. I have my men moving the planets to figure out who attacked us. But we need to work together." He swallowed. "I need your help."

He expected some form of friction, but she just looked drained. "I know, Ben. How are we going to do this? I need to get back to the Resistance so I—"

"No!" he interjected hotly. Bewilderment wove itself into her face. "No, Rey, you need to recover. You're in no shape to be traveling anywhere."

She bristled. "I'm perfectly fine! I could walk out of here right now!"

She made a move to sit up but froze midway with a groan. She sank back into the bed, eyes squeezed shut.

He smirked. "For sure looks like it."

She cursed at him weakly, and he laughed low. Without thought, he walked over and reached down to help her readjust. She stilled, but she didn't stop him. He lifted her gently and moved the blanket back over her, avoiding her inquisitive gaze. When he pulled his hands away, his fingertips burned with electricity.

"Thank you," she breathed, and he stiffly nodded, straightening back up.

"Rey," he started, suddenly unsure of himself. "I need you to stay here until you recover. And you need to know you are not my prisoner. You're my guest."

Her eyes flitted to the wall. He took a long breath and went on. "But I—I need you to listen to me while you're here. I need you to hear me out, give my vision your ear. When you're well, I won't keep you. You can fly away back to the Resistance." He bit down the hurt that statement welled up in him. "But while we figure out who ambushed us, I'd like us...to talk."

She gave him a long, suspicious look. "You mean it? You won't hold me, force me into a chair again?"

He shook his head with vigor. "No, Rey, I promise you that."

She didn't immediately object, and his heart soared.

"Fine," she said after a long moment. Then her eyes slit. "But don't try anything, Kylo."

He deflated a bit as she returned to calling him that, but kept his voice even.

"Deal."

* * *

He tensed as he felt her presence wash over him in the Force as he left the medbay. Warm and enthralling, like the first dip into a bubbling hot spring. When she stepped forth from the shadows, she smiled luxuriously.

"Hello, Kylo."

"Rhea," he said, more stiffly than he intended.

"I hear she's alive," she said, sidling slowly up to him.

"Yes," he said flatly. "The girl is fine. She'll be of great use to us in finding who attacked us and reining in the Resistance." He tried his best to sound nonchalant. They could not know he cared. It would supplant him.

She cocked her head. "And that's all, Master?"

"She's a tool, Rhea," he bit out. "She'll fit whatever function we have for her."

She seemed satisfied with that answer. She was standing nearly half an arm from him now, and he could make out the striking dappling along her lekku. The soft patterns were like those of a jungle cat. He nearly jerked when she laid a nimble hand on his chest.

"You've been so overstrung lately, my lord," she purred in a voice like cashmere. "Why are you so troubled?"

She was pure allure. Her voice alone, the dulcet tones like the gentle lapping of waves, nearly unbound him. All of his doubts beckoned at the back of his head, wanting to be free. His mouth fell slightly ajar.

"You can always talk to me, Master," she whispered. Her silvery eyes glowed. "Take comfort in me."

He lifted the hand to his face, and the air faltered in his lungs. He sighed as she pulled his head to her and gently pressed her lips to his.

They were impossibly soft, and she tasted like honey and lilac. For a moment, he returned the kiss, moving his mouth passionately against hers. Her fingers twisted in his hair, and he put a hand to the small of her back. He pulled her flush to him, and she moaned into his mouth.

And then it struck him.

He felt nothing. No sparks, no intimacy. And suddenly the wrongness of it all came crashing down.

What would she think if she saw them?

He grabbed her shoulders and pushed her back, maybe a little too roughly. Confusion and hurt immediately took up residence on her exquisite features.

"Kylo, w—"

"No, Rhea. I can't do this. _We_ can't do this. We cannot jeopardize the mission." It was a good enough excuse, he figured.

She reached for him but he moved out of the way. "But, Kylo, what we had..."

"The past is the past, Rhea. The future is now. Everything is different. You know this. We have a new purpose, and that means old things have to die."

Realization dawned in her eyes like the last piece of the puzzle falling into place. "It's her, isn't it?" she said accusatively, her voice laced with malice.

"No, Rhea," he lied. "It's us. All of us. We have to focus now more than ever. We have to be at the top of our game. That means no distractions."

"But—" she started.

"No," he said with finality. "I—I have to go."

And with that he turned from her and went in search of a drink.


	7. Chapter 7

**A Rose Watered with Vinegar**

 _Chapter 7_

oOoOoOo

He woke to the sound of his comm buzzing incessantly on his night stand. Rubbing his eyes with a curse, he rolled over and grabbed it. He squinted to make out the letters on the small screen.

Cronus.

He answered immediately. "What is it, Cronus?" It was almost a slur the sleep was so heavy in his voice.

His compatriot's thin voice was almost jarring. "I apologize for disturbing you so late, my lord. But it's urgent. We've received another message."

Kylo shot up as if propelled by a springboard. "Pallas?"

"Yes, my lord."

"I'll be there right away."

He switched off the comm and tossed it haphazardly onto the bed as he jumped out. He dressed with vigor, not bothering to check if he even tucked his tunic in smoothly. He threw on his robes and all but bolted from the room, pulling the mask over his face as he strode down the hall.

Rounding a corner, he nearly bowled directly into the back of some gigantic form.

"Evening, Master," greeted the offending Hyperion as he slowed to walk beside him. "Or should I say morning? I assume we're headed to the same place."

Kylo nodded. "I wonder what that bastard has to say this time."

"I'm sure it can't be good," said Hyperion grimly.

When they arrived, they discovered Theia and Atlas had beaten them there, seated already. Cronus was in the corner, tinkering with the message terminal. His long fingers were striking away at the screen, and Kylo assumed he was attempting to do something with the message. He took off his mask and joined the others at the table, and Hyperion followed suit.

"What are you doing, Cronus?" he said.

The intelligencer did not turn from the screen. "Gleaning, my lord. The message is heavily encrypted. I'm trying to work past it, but the enciphering is good. He must have someone quite skilled in his company."

After a minute, Cronus emitted a rare curse and struck the terminal with the bottom of his fist.

"Bad news?" said Atlas.

"It's too strong," sighed Cronus. "This is coding I haven't ever dealt with before." Kylo took a quick breath. That wasn't good. Cronus was perhaps the most technologically adept individual he had ever met. He'd seen the man dismantle entire security systems with a jab of the finger. If he couldn't crack this, then it was fairly evident Pallas had more than just an old warship in his arsenal.

He heard footsteps behind him, and Kylo turned to find Ophion and Rhea spilling into the room. They removed their masks as they filled seats at the table.

Rhea regarded him coldly. Kylo looked away, willing the shame from his face.

"Miss anything important?" said Ophion to no one in particular, brushing the long platinum locks from his eyes.

"Not the worst of it," answered Kylo. "Cronus, do you have the message ready?"

"Yes, Master."

"Let's get it over with, then."

Cronus nodded and turned to tap away at the screen. Moments later, a staticky blue holo figure appeared in the room.

"Hello, Kylo," drawled Pallas from within his hood. Kylo set his jaw. "It was so good to see you the other day on Chandrila."

Kylo wasn't terribly surprised. He has figured the possibility of a Resistance lone wolf to be pretty slim, as they all were like brainless machines when it came to whatever the leadership said. Atlas had suggested in the immediate Council meeting following the attack that it could have been a cartel hit, blowback from the emancipation decree, but Kylo had pretty much ruled that out, too. Open defiance of the New Order in such a fashion wasn't really aligned with the way they operated. He was relieved, however, to know that it wasn't Hux. He knew the man was not long for betrayal, but he was glad it hadn't come so soon.

"Did you like my ship, Kylo?" He was torn back to the hooded hologram. "It's nice, isn't it? Some might say it's a little rough on the eyes, but I think it's a treasure. It flew in the time of the Old Empire. A time much better than now."

Theia growled. Pallas went on.

"You've probably wondered how I got the thing to fly. You see, Kylo, I've surpassed you. I don't need engines to fly ships; I fly with the Force. A nice trick, isn't it? Too bad you won't be able to learn it."

Anger burned in Kylo's gut. He had to admit, the deranged fool was pretty good at getting under his skin. He always had been, even during his time in the Knights.

"Yes, you will be gone soon. It was a shame Chandrila didn't go as planned. It's only going to be worse for you now. And the pathetic little weasels calling themselves 'the Resistance'. The clock is ticking, Kylo. The Sith are eager to follow Darth Cantarus into battle."

So, he was calling himself a Darth now? Kylo supposed he had to if he was legitimately attempting to revive the Sith. Pallas' commitment was deep, it seemed.

Pallas chuckled. "Well, I'll be seeing you soon. Goodbye, Kylo Ren."

And then the figure disappeared.

Kylo simply glared at the now-empty spot, before Ophion piped up.

"Darth Cantarus? You've got to be kidding me with this guy."

"He's vile," spat Theia.

"That he is, Theia," said Hyperion. He turned to Kylo. "What do you think, my lord?"

Kylo sighed. "Well, for one, we need to secure our comms. Either he's found a way to hack our system, or it came from the inside. We'll find out soon enough if Hux or anyone in his ilk are in cahoots with Pallas, but we have to have our messages locked down."

"I will tend to that right away, my lord," said Cronus with a bow of his head.

Kylo nodded. Rhea chimed in.

"His Force powers are...troubling, to say the least."

"Agreed," said Hyperion. "Flying a ship as Nihilus did is no small feat."

"Do you think he's become like him, my lord?" asked Atlas, looking to Kylo. "A wound in the Force?"

"I do not know," replied Kylo. "Wounds are typically only created via massive loss of life, but they can be generated from really any catastrophic event. Perhaps Pallas' Snoke-induced madness rendered him one."

"If he has become like Nihilus, that can be to our advantage," surmised Hyperion. "The Lord of Hunger was strong, yes, but that power was ultimately his downfall. He overreached, and it consumed him, as so many do with that kind of strength."

"Don't be a fool," said Rhea pointedly. "He has us right where he wants us. Any 'overreach' on his part would not include our destruction."

"A hasty assumption, Rhea," chided Cronus. "If we were truly under his blade, we'd have done battle with him by now. I'm beginning to think he's reliant on the information we send to the Resistance. If our messages aren't bugged, then surely there's are. That must be addressed."

"The Resistance recruits just about anyone," said Theia with scorn. "Lowlifes, barflies, indigents. If not the messages, how do we know there isn't a mole amongst them? Pallas could have easily infiltrated their ranks with that kind of open door policy."

"Worth looking into, Theia," said Kylo. She wasn't wrong; from what he knew, the Resistance typically recruited people who had nothing to lose and a lot to gain. A spy could have easily posed as a poor junk trader and won the sympathy vote into their group. Hell, there could be an entire underground cadre of them in the Resistance.

"We shouldn't even be working with them in the first place," groused Rhea. She crossed her arms. "They're still our enemies in the end, right? Now they're just making bigger headaches for us."

"I would think twice before questioning me, Rhea," growled Kylo. He wasn't going to let her get insolent after what happened outside the med bay. She needed to be professional. "The ceasefire stands and that is final."

"If we didn't have the stupid ceasefire, we wouldn't have risked our lives at that little meeting!"

The anger in his belly was boiling now, coursing hot into his veins.

"Rhea," he hissed. "I'd be careful if I were you."

"Afraid of a little criticism, _my lord_?"

He saw red. With a flick of his hand, he flung her across the room with the Force. She slammed into the wall with a thud. He rose like a summoned demon, the air growing thick and dark around him.

"I am not to be defied!" he roared. Electricity curled around his fingers as he approached her struggling shape. "I am not to be questioned!"

He pointed his fingers at her, the strands of voltage licking across them like writhing worms. He was about to release it, punish her insubordination, when she looked up at him.

He faltered. The pure fear and anguish in her eyes was an ocean. She was quaking, too, like a leaf in a gust. He'd never had to subdue her like this before; she had never been on the receiving end of his righteous anger to this degree. The lightning dissipated.

He took a step back, reeling, mind rebooting. This wasn't how he was supposed to change things. Fear was no longer his weapon of choice. And the Knights were better than that. They didn't deserve to be denigrated like Hux or the military buffoons. They were not dogs to be beaten when they disobeyed. He'd made it clear they were much for than that.

His voice was so shaky and brittle it made him want to retch. "Meeting dismissed."

Chest heaving, he made for the door as the others simply looked on in bafflement.

* * *

He didn't hesitate this time as he pressed the button to open the doors to her room. She sat up in shock as he flew into the room, his robes billowing behind him. He could feel her terror in the force, radiating through the room like an arid squall.

He took a seat across from the bed and put his head into his hands, pressing his palms into his eyes to force them from leaking.

Her voice was soft, tentative. "Ben...?"

"I fucked up," he found himself saying, voice thick. Why did it matter to her? "We had a meeting, and she disagreed, and I..."

"Who?" she wheedled. "What happened?"

He sucked in a breath. It wasn't fair that she had such an effect on him. Such a power. It made him want to turn himself inside out for her, expose every inch of his soul.

"Rhea," he confessed. "One of my Knights. She opposed me in front of all of them, and I—I lost my cool. I threw into the wall. And then I almost _tortured_ her."

He heard her flinch. "Why?"

"Because that's the system, Rey," he explained, lifting his head from his hands to look up at her. "That's how it's been since day one. It was beat into all of us. Snoke, the First Order. It's all run on fear. I only held my power because they were scared of it, afraid of what would happen if they challenged it. That's how it's worked."

She crossed her arms and frowned. "Sounds like you just did what you were supposed to do." Her tone was not kind.

"You don't get it, Rey," he huffed. "I'm trying to change that. The fear, the intimidation, the constant power jockeying. It's...wrong. It's not the way of the Force. Thing cannot continually exist in that state."

"What do you mean?" There was intrigue in her voice now.

"Fear is the Dark Side of the Force. It has its uses, but things, life, cannot exist constantly in the Dark Side. I've learned that much. It will destroy anything that stays too long. The Old Empire succumbed to it. So did the Sith. " He paused, his mind conjuring the image of Pallas, before continuing. "The Dark Side must exist. But so must the Light. The world was formed in its balance. But since then, that equilibrium has become unseated. I aim to restore it."

Her eyes were suspicious. "Luke said the Dark Side was evil. That it ruins people. Lives."

The mention of the Jedi brought his anger back in full force. "Did he say he was resting comfortably in the Light Side when he tried to kill me? When he fought and slew his own Padawans in the ensuing fight? Luke was no innocent. He knew the Dark, tasted it. The problem was, it was too much for him. Instead of controlling it, learning from it, he outright rejected it. And that ultimately drove him to cowardice, hiding away wherever he was until he came to his senses."

Perplexion scrunched her pretty features. "Ensuing fight?" she echoed. "What are you talking about?"

"Ah, I see my esteemed uncle failed to mention that part," he scoffed. "You see, after he tried to murder me, he fled. I followed. I confronted him in front of everyone, challenged him. Many of the students agreed with me, some of whom became Knights. Others didn't. I didn't start the fight, but all of a sudden it happened. And there was the old man. The virtuous Jedi. Killing his students. Enveloped in the Dark Side."

Rey sputtered. "You're lying! That's not what everyone says! You killed them all."

Kylo sighed. "No, I didn't. I let them believe that lie because it strengthened my image. _Jedi-Killer_. Fear is strong, remember? The Republic could not have their man shamed. The paragon of their 'ethics'." He spat. "They invented that story, insisting I had gone on a random murder spree. I showed you the memory. I'm telling the truth. While Snoke was certainly in my head, I never planned anything like that."

And then it came rushing back to him. The loneliness of his gifts. His alienation to his parents. The lack of friends. The corners of his eyes pricked with wetness again. Damn it.

"Why did he do it?" she asked quietly.

He shook his head. "Because he was weak. He sensed my power, and my growing understanding of the Dark Side, albeit under Snoke's influence. He thought I would destroy the galaxy. He couldn't comprehend the idea of balance in the Force. He was intellectually dishonest, lazy in his thought. He found it much easier to cloak himself in his false idea of purity that caused him so much pain. But the Dark Side is not evil. It is not wrong. It's part of all things. Passion. Anger. Jealousy."

"I don't understand," breathed Rey. "I mean, it does kind of make sense. I've felt the Dark Side before, but it didn't feel anything like Luke described. It didn't feel evil. It felt different, but not like the Jedi say."

"That's because it's a part of who we are," he elaborated. "It's a part of the Force. It exists for a reason. It's the hot side of the coin. It is our basest desires, our instinctual emotions. It's one of the biggest things that make us human. To deny them is to deny yourself. In many ways, it's almost more natural than the Light Side. But they are equally important."

She narrowed her eyes. "I thought Kylo Ren hated the Light Side. Hated the Jedi, it's biggest proponents."

That hurt. "That's an awfully huge assumption for someone that doesn't know me at all," he said in a clipped tone. "I thought you of all people saw the Light in me."

"I did, Ben. _Do_. But when you do the things you do, hurt people, build weapons that destroy planets, it's becomes pretty hard to see."

He ignored the impulse to lecture on strategy of war. "I rely on the Dark Side, yes. Maybe too much at times. It's what fuels my power. I'm the strongest priest of the Dark in the entire galaxy. But I'm no stranger to the Light. I—I'm drawn to it. The world I want to build can't happen without it. Freeing the slaves? What was that?"

He could see the wheels working in her head as she bit her lip. He pressed on.

"I use Light Side powers of the Force, too, Rey," he said. He abruptly stood and punched the metal wall, the resulting dull thud reverberating through the room. She gasped, and he turned his bleeding hand to her. She watched raptly as he channeled the Force to the wounds on his knuckles, the skin knitting itself back together. After a moment, they were gone.

"See?" he said. "Light Side. Did you know the mind trick was invented by the Jedi? The same people that preach compassion and love for all have no problem removing someone's free will if it fits their paternalistic goals. Things are not black and white, Rey."

He knew then he had said enough to put things in motion. She looked like she was full of a thousand questions, but he wouldn't go further. Not yet. She needed to think on her own. Rushing things was not his modus operandi this time around.

"I've said enough," Kylo said. "How are you feeling?"

"Um," she said, the confusion thicker than syrup in her voice. "Better, I guess. Exhausted mostly."

"Your body is drained," he explained. "The blow to your head will take a lot of energy to heal. Bacta will speed it up, but until it's fully healed you will be sickly."

"And then I'll be free to go?"

The stubbornness returns, he thought grimly. He worked his jaw. "Yes, Rey. So eager to forget the free medical treatment."

She harrumphed. "It's not that I don't appreciate it. But you'll forgive me if I don't exactly trust you."

"In time, Rey," he assured. She gave him a look that didn't subtly suggest she disagreed. "In time."

With that, he gave her a small smile and turned on his heel and left.


	8. Chapter 8

**A Rose Watered with Vinegar**

 _Chapter 8_

o0o0o0o

Blanketing himself in Darkness, he called to her in the Force. In order to communicate with any of the Knights, he had to be firmly sheathed in the Dark Side. It was a useful connection he personally fostered with each of them, forging the connection through deep tandem meditation in the blackness of the Force. Though he hadn't deeply explored the limits, he'd been able to call to them from across sections of the galaxy, and most times he could feel their strongest emotions. They were almost like the Force Bonds Snoke had learned to fashion, but they lacked the essence of manipulation and fear of his former master's designs. They were more like those formed with lifelong friends in the Force—if he could even call them that—such as that shared by his uncle and his mother.

 _Or he and Rey_.

When she arrived at his quarters, he could feel the volatile mixture of feelings roiling inside her. Disheartenment. Frustration. Need. It was a potent concoction, and he could feel the Dark's desire in him to feed from it, exploit it. And then, too, was the Light, urging compassion from him, reminding him of the past. It was drawing him thin.

"Thank you for coming, Rhea," he greeted a bit awkwardly.

She simply crossed her arms and leaned against the wall. "What is it, Master?"

He sighed. "I think you know."

"Oh, I do?"

He bit his tongue. Her impertinence was not helping his lack of ability to properly atone for things. He'd never been good at accepting responsibility. It was probably part of the reason he was always called a child by Snoke and others. Petulance was unbefitting of a leader, no less of the entire galaxy, but it was a tough hurdle to clear.

"I—I apologize, Rhea," he said unsurely. "For what happened in the meeting. I couldn't contain myself, and I shouldn't have... _corrected_ you like that. You're a Knight. You deserve to be treated as such."

She huffed. "That's never been an issue before."

"Not when you're ruling the galaxy alongside me," he asserted. "A Council with power shouldn't be subjected to physical reprimand. But that means they have to act right. Open defiance on agreed policy after it's been decided doesn't help that."

"You're just doing this for her," she groused sullenly. "I know it's true."

"No, Rhea," he said. It wasn't entirely true. His intentions with Rey simply coincided with his desire to rework the galaxy. "It's about making things better. In order to do that, we have to stop Pallas. And the Resistance can help us." He added as an afterthought, "For now."

"And afterwards?" she pried. "Will you hesitate to destroy them? Will you let them run away again?"

"No," he said with finality. Ultimately, to get Rey to join him, he couldn't destroy them. But if he tried everything and they still wouldn't accept his rule, he would be forced to. For better or worse with Rey. "They will bend the knee. We'll move forward unilaterally, or they'll be wiped out."

She narrowed her eyes, clearly disbelieving, before her face went to slack sadness. "What happened, Kylo? To us?"

He clamped his eyes shut. "Rhea..."

"It was so good. _We_ were so good. At least, I thought so." Her saccharine voice was strained. She twisted a finger around the end of one of her lekku.

"It was, Rhea," he placated. "But it was unprofessional. You are my Apprentice in all but name, just as the others. To function fluidly we can't be entangled. You know we made the right decision." He knew that if he ever made Rey his apprentice, this line of reasoning might come back to bite him. But he just didn't care.

"Somewhere in me, I know," she said. "But I can't help but miss it. Your hands, the raw strength of your body. You've always been the finest man I've ever been with. Nothing can compare." The lust in her voice made him shiver.

He couldn't help the swell of ego, but he knew she was just saying what he wanted to hear. His self-image was his Achilles heel, and she was well aware of it.

"You were amazing, too, Rhea," he said. "But it cannot happen. It's not good for our goals." He put an edge to his voice. "You would throw away all the work you've put in? Everything you've accomplished?"

"I just don't get why it matters," she said in exasperation.

"Because, we need clear heads. A relationship would skew our perceptions. It would undo the legitimacy of the Council. Think of the others. What would they do if they found out?"

"We don't have to let them find out," she suggested hopefully. "It'll be just like before. The secrecy was fun, after all."

"That was a long time ago, Rhea," he chided firmly. "We were young and had no real responsibilities. But now? Imagine if they caught you sneaking out of my rooms. There would be hell to pay. I still can't believe we kept it somehow from Snoke; the man would have had us both for dinner."

"Snoke is dead," she pressured. "You rule the galaxy, now. Your word is law. If you told the other Knights it was your will, they'd have to accept it."

He shook his head. "That isn't true, and you know it. It would undermine everything. Not to mention the First Order diehards. It would be their instant checkmate. They'd try to usurp us in a second."

Hurt seeped form her in the Force. Her silvery eyes were watery. "Ben—"

At the sound of his given name from her an anger burned in his chest. "My name is Kylo Ren to you, and it forever will be! As your Master, I am ordering you to stop this. I won't hear any more about us or our past. It is over."

The harshness of his tone caused her to flinch, but she took on a resolute look. "Fine. If this is how you want it to be, then so be it, _my lord_. But when she turns you down for the umpteenth time, I will not be your secondary. And don't think the Knights will accept her any more than they would us."

He grit his teeth. "Go prepare yourself for the meeting."

Her exquisite features were pure venom. "As you wish."

* * *

When he'd been commed by the medical staff and informed Rey was finished recovering, he'd immediately sent an outfit of troopers to collect her. He wasn't about to let her sneak off and fly away on one of his ships before he had finished his pitch. He figured this was perhaps his last opportunity to sway her to his side, as the noose around the galaxy was beginning to tighten. Between Pallas and the impending upheaval from the cartels and possibly from within his own ranks, things were about to get quite hairy. There would be no other time to demonstrate his intentions as a ruler to her.

She looked at him with angry disapproval when she arrived with the squad of Stormtroopers. Great, Kylo thought. He dismissed his men with a lordly wave of his hand. She took up a defensive posture, planting her feet widely and balling her little fists. He fought the urge to wrench a fistful of his hair out. Was this never-ending with her? Would she ever stop thinking of him as the perpetual aggressor?

"Well?" she asked impatiently. "Did you bring me here to walk me to a ship?"

He couldn't help but smirk at her snark. "I didn't know you preferred such chivalry."

She sniffed and raised her chin. "I don't expect much. At least, not from you."

"You have a lot to learn, then," he said silkily. "I am the Emperor. Do you think his lady would receive anything but the best?"

She snorted. "In your dreams."

While it was certainly a rebuke, Kylo noticed it lacked any real ice. He didn't know whether to attribute it to real progress or the fact that she knew she was close to being free to go, but either way he enjoyed it. It was refreshing. Spending shared time constantly another person's neck is tiresome. Especially when Kylo is the Emperor of the Galaxy. It was all he did, twenty-four seven.

"Don't pretend like they aren't yours, too," he shot back cheekily. She flushed, the constellations of freckles across her soft cheeks now framed by the rosy rush of heat.

And then suddenly they were back to business. "W—Well?" she said, a little tremulously. "What's going on, Ben? What is this place?" She gestured to the space around them.

"This," he said, spreading his arms grandly. "Is the Emperor's command center. This is where all the magic happens."

"It's..." she started tentatively, apparently looking for the words. "Definitely imposing."

He watched her eyes scan over the black walls, the multitudes of screens that revealed star maps and other things, the rows of oppressive lighting. He agreed; there was nothing comforting about it. It had been designed that way, of course. It was basic psychology. To make tough decisions, one needed tough surroundings. The command center afforded no luxuries. It was cold and hard, as the position of Emperor demanded.

"It certainly doesn't feel very homey, does it?" he mused. "Most of these rooms were designed to the personal specifications of Hux and the other military-stuck minds. I don't think they know any other colors exist besides black."

She gave him a small, wry smile. "And you do?"

He motioned to the blade at his belt. "Well, I know of this one, I guess?"

That did not have the intended effect. She quieted instantly and looked away with an unreadable expression.

"Anyways," he pushed on stiffly. How come it was so difficult to maintain ground? "I brought you here so you could sit in on a Council meeting."

Her eyes snapped to his.

"If you won't join me," he explained quietly. "Then I would at least like your input. For one meeting, maybe more. I believe there are things we are both working towards. The ceasefire is temporary. But if you want that to change, I need your help. I need to know the Resistance angle. Maybe there is a solution that fits all. But without your inside knowledge, it will never happen."

"Since when did the mighty and ruthless Kylo Ren get so charitable?" she said teasingly.

Since your heart became at stake, he thought. "Since I became the Emperor," came from his lips. "This has always been me. Kind of weird when someone doesn't turn out to be the blood-drunk creature you thought they were, huh?" He said it with a little too much bite, but he couldn't help it. His image was a bitter subject. He hated that she listened to the mindless parrots who called him a monster.

She said nothing in response. He gave up making more headway. "The Knights will be here soon," he informed her. "Have a seat. Take the one to the right of the head." He remained standing by the door.

They spent the rest of the time before the Knights arrived in silence. When his soldiers came, they bowed to him before each noticing Rey and reacting with their own unique expressions of shock. Of course, Theia spoke first.

"My lord," she said in a voice like death. "Why is the Jedi here?"

"Be seated, Knights," he commanded, ignoring her. They complied, albeit slowly. "There is much to discuss. _Rey_ ," he said pointedly. "Is here because I've invited her. She can offer us a unique perspective on the Resistance. She knows that if she were to share any information... _prematurely_ , then she'd be endangering her friends. I have ways of finding out everything." She paled somewhat at his assessment. It was not an empty threat, after all. Several New Order spies had already infiltrated the Resistance.

The Knights didn't look happy, but they could sense the finality in his voice. Rhea glared at him murderously but remained quiet. Thank Force, he thought with relief.

He took his spot at the head of the table. "Pallas or not," he said, clapping his hands together. "The people are suffering. They will continue to regardless of him, regardless of the Resistance. We will not allow pretenders and interlopers to keep the galaxy on its knees." He knew he was being showy, but he wanted to present to Rey his flair for oration. Despite its origins, he thought bitterly, the image of his mother before the Senate flashing into his head. "Under the Republic, the Outer Rim languished. The Mid Rim has just barely hit its industrial revolution. All while the Core Worlds have grown obese. They've hoarded enough wealth to rebuild Starkiller a thousand times over. And the Republic let them. The Senate let them."

"The Republic has indeed bled the galaxy, my lord," said Cronus. "The corruption of the Senate is dire. It is a farce of a democracy."

"I remember my many visits in search of Force Sensitives in the Outer Rim," recalled Hyperion, his eyes distant. "It's a lawless world." He turned to Rey. "My lady, you're an Outer Rimmer, are you not?"

She bristled. "I'm not anyone's lady," she said peevishly. "But yes. I was raised on Jakku."

Several eyebrows shot at that. "Where the Empire met the New Republic? That was quite a battle, so I've heard." asked Atlas, stroking his beard.

"Um, yeah," she confirmed, clearly uncomfortable. "I was a scavenger. I traded parts and junk for rations. It was a modest life."

"She traded shit for food to a mutated Crolute who keeps his thumb on every living thing in a hundred mile radius," he said viciously. She looked at him in alarm.

"Kylo—" she started, warning in her voice.

He cut her off. "No. It's a terrible existence. No one deserves that. Especially a Force Sensitive. Don't dress it up. It is an insult to the Force for a sentient being to live like that."

She went silent, but he swore he could see the faintest glimmer of appreciation in her eyes.

"All life has sanctity," intoned Atlas fervently, looking to Rey. "The Force wills us as its rectors to amend the wrongdoings of the world. We Users are its will made manifest. Balance is its ultimate goal, and it can only be achieved when the galaxy does not want."

"Atlas," said Theia scornfully. "Why waste your time on a heathen Jedi? She could never understand the Force as we do."

"I agree, Theia," jumped in Rhea. "The Jedi would much rather sit on mountaintops than do anything of substance."

"You're wrong!" countered Rey, her face darkening. "The Jedi bring good to the galaxy! They help people, are selfless—"

"Bring good to the galaxy?" interjected Cronus snidely. With the light shielding his eyes in his frames and his long, bald head, he appeared like a Sith Inquisitor of old. "A pile of Gungan dung does more good for the galaxy. How much have you read of them, young one?"

"Well, I..." She trailed off, before sighing. "Nothing, really. But it isn't my fault. I haven't had much time to catch up on my studies, you know, with the New Order breathing murder down my neck."

"Then you speak from zero knowledge," Cronus snapped, ignoring her comment. "In pursuit of their unattainable morals, the Jedi have done far worse than the Sith. Do you know of Luke Skywalker's most shining moment?"

She merely nodded.

"Then you understand they are no saints," the intelligencer said. "The Sith were failures, too, though they were not wrong to use the Dark Side. There must be a marriage in the Force to move forward. Both sects had to end."

"Enough," enjoined Kylo. "There will be plenty of time for Rey to learn the ways of the Force. We're off topic. Hyperion?" The big Knight glanced to him. "Send a summons to the heads of the top ten monetary interests of the Core Worlds. Preferably those with off-world operations."

He bowed his head. "Of course, my lord."

"This is the first step in bringing order to the galaxy," Kylo said. "We are restructuring the way business is done around here. The upper crust of the galaxy has held out on the rest for far too long. Corporations glued to the Core Worlds will relinquish their power. Once we have satisfied the rights of the workers, we install our government." He looked to Rey as he continued emphatically. "There will be no Senate. The Council of Ren will be the ultimate power in the galaxy, but not as regents. I will appoint governors to all of the Sectors of the galaxy. They will be our agents, and they will only be compensated on the happiness and progress of their charges. This will weed out the grifting we have seen under the Republic."

"Taxes will no longer be trapped in corporate loopholes. They will be reinvested in the people. As it is, several Mid Rim worlds are facing complete climate collapse as they have been drained of nearly every last drop of resource. We cannot allow that to happen. Restorative efforts have to be undertaken. All this," he said, lifting his arms. "Must be done. The Force decrees it."

They all nodded in reverence. Rey simply sat with her chin in her hand, watching him curiously.

He smirked. His impression had been made. "Well, then. Let's get to work."

* * *

He found her waiting for him the corridor as he closed down the command center, as he had requested. He sighed and ran a hand through his long, jet-black locks.

"I suppose you'll be wanting that ship now," he said with resignation.

She just stared up at him, her blue orbs betraying a depth of confusion and indecision. "Why are you doing this, Ben?" she asked quietly. "Like, really. Don't give me all the vague platitudes and intellectualism."

"You don't know me at all," he responded bitterly. "You never took a chance on me. I tried to show you. But you didn't take my hand."

"I do this because I respect the Force," he explained. "And the Force exists in all sentient beings. I don't care if that's a platitude. It's the truth. We," he gestured to both of them. "Are priests of the Force, whether we like it or not. We have a responsibility at the behest of the Force to safeguard and improve life. It's our destiny. While yes, some had to die to make it happen and that may seem hypocritical, it was necessary. The Republic would have never given way without struggle. To let things continue the way they did under their rule would have been far worse. And..."

"And what, Ben?" she prodded.

The pain reared its grotesque head. "I can't be a failure," he all but whispered. "My whole family is a bunch of failures. Darth Vader, the Chosen One, undone by his own personal issues. Luke Skywalker, the broken old man who tried to murder his own nephew and then lived out the rest of his days somewhere in fruitless exile. Leia was a failure as a mother and helped create the bloodsucking Republic that ultimately made life worse for people than anything. I—I can't be like them. If anything, I need to restore respect to the Skywalker name."

"Oh, Ben," she said, stepping close to him and splaying a hand on his chest. Then she blushed at her own boldness and quickly retracted it, looking away. "I want to believe you. I want to believe this is all for real, that you want to help people like me. Scavengers. Junkies. The lowest of us. But I've seen the things you've done. And I—I don't know what to think. Ben, you killed Han. I don't know if I'll ever get over that."

He looked away as hot tears rushed to his eyes. "I never wanted to kill him." His voice was full of anguish. "But I didn't think I had a choice. I had already worked so hard, accomplished so much. And then Snoke commanded it and I—I buckled. He sensed the Light in me, though the could snuff it out with that act. I gave in. I thought if I defied him he would kill me. And then I'd never fulfill my vision for the galaxy."

He looked back to her and saw there were tears streaming down her face. He didn't know what to do, so he just acted on rabid impulse. He did the most uncharacteristic thing he thought he'd ever done. He enveloped her in a hug.

It was bit awkward at first, and she tensed in his arms. But when he placed his chin on her little head, she returned the embrace, burying her face against his chest. She was soaking his tunic, but it didn't bother him. Standing there with her, he realized how small she was in comparison to him. The difference was stark. But he knew she had a power that ultimately might be more than his. This bantam Jedi desert flower should not be underestimated.

"Wow," she said thickly through tears. "This is all really fucked up, isn't it?"

He chuckled wetly. "The lives of Force users are messy. They're never simple. Look at every Sith and Jedi in history. It's enough evidence that both extremes always floundered to suggest the Force seeks balance. Everything does. That's why the Force chose me. Chose _you_. In order to engender that balance, we have to do it together. It's the only way. The Light tempers the Dark and vice versa."

She pulled away from him and looked away sullenly. "I didn't ask for this. I didn't want the Force. If I had my way, I'd be back on Jakku, never having heard of any of this." She must have noticed the hurt look on his face when she glanced back because she went on. "That doesn't mean I don't wish I never met you, Ben. While I don't know exactly exists between us, the things I felt through the Bond were good. I—I don't regret those."

"Then join me," he suggested, possibly a little too eagerly. "Let's figure this out together."

He saw the objection written all over her face so he decided to try a different angle.

"At least, come with us to the Core Worlds," he asked. "See for yourself firsthand that I'm serious about all of this. That I want to change the world for the better." He added with a smirk, "I'll even let you dress down for the occasion."

"Ben..."

"It's just one meeting," he promised. "And after that, you're free to go. Back to the Resistance or otherwise. But if you do so," he cautioned. "You're going to severely damage any opportunity for peace. When Pallas is destroyed, the fascist First Order types will want to go after you next. And I can't promise I'll be able to talk them down without compromising everything else."

She was silent, clearly mulling over what he had just said. Impatience bore through him, so he repeated his proposal. "Will you come with me, Rey?"

Uncertainly shone in her eyes, but she did not disappoint.

"Yes, Ben. I'll come."

* * *

 **A/N:** Thanks to all those who have left comments! Still trying to figure out a good way to respond to them without putting them here. Don't want to clog this up.


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